A Fresh Start
by xxoxLOVELESSxoxx
Summary: Set after 3.08 but no CS: A few months after the 'Jimmy Incident', Thomas tries to turn over a new leaf, to make a fresh start. With important guests and meddling co-workers, that might easier said than done... Thomas/OMC
1. Troubled Musings and First Meetings

**Ok! So, I haven't written anything for around a year and a half now but since beginning Downton Abbey and falling in love with the characters, I decided to seek out my notebook again after series 3. I started this on-and-off after 3.08 aired in UK but before the Christmas episode so consider it an AU after the cricket match.**

**Just so you know, I've used a real title, Earl of Atholl, for my character as it was based in Perthshire, Scotland. Although it's now technically extinct, it has been incorporated into the Duke of Atholl title and Blair House is a real place belonging to the Duke of Atholl but at the moment, it's heir apparently lives in South Africa. I ****_was_**** going to use an English peerage but I'm not as familiar with English geography (I've only been there twice despite living across the border, shameful I know).**

**I do have a vague idea where this is going but I will most likely be slow to update with my postgrad exams, assignments,and dissertation to do.**

**(Bonus points: See if you can spot my Fable reference!)**

**Edit note: I'd written Duke of Argyll twice, what I meant was Atholl. Sorry, was thinking about going back to the highlands to visit at some point this year. **

* * *

The clock above the mantelpiece ticked loudly in the empty servant's hall, echoing off the sparse white walls. A figure was seated beside the slowly dying embers of the fire Daisy had put out earlier that evening. Lifting his cigarette, Thomas Barrow took another deep draw and ran a hand across his forehead. The past few months had not been kind to him but if he was honest, he had no-one else to blame but himself. He should have known better than to trust in anything O'Brien said. Hadn't he spent the better part of his years as a footman weaving countless lies and deceiving his fellows with O'Brien as his partner-in-crime? Wasn't he aware of what she was capable of? At any rate, it was too late to fix what had been done. Thomas knew that he was only still at Downton by a mixture of amazingly good fortune and his Lordship's good grace so he wasn't in any hurry to get even with her and cause trouble. He was on a perilous tightrope as it was but Bates' intervention seemed to have had it's desired effect. O'Brien had been oddly quiet, the knowledge that one of her deepest and darkest secrets could be easily revealed had quickly shut her up

As much as Thomas had hated Bates and his holier-than-thou persona, he now had a kind of grudging respect for the crippled valet. He had decided that he ought to leave Bates well alone in future. Thomas didn't have to like Bates but saving him from a life on the streets or worse, in prison, was worth civility and respect. Having Bates as an ally was better than nothing in his book. Thomas stubbed out the remains of his cigarette and listened to the sounds of the house: aside from the ticking of the old clock, he could hear the faint sounds of movement from Mrs Hughes parlour. Yet another person he owed more than he would like. He had always liked Mrs Hughes in his own way but her calm, quiet understanding of his situation was a warm and slightly surprising welcome. It wasn't something he was used to. There was no judging, no disgust, or rejection, just gentle, almost motherly acceptance. He knew Mrs Hughes had told Bates what had transpired between him and Jimmy but he couldn't find it in him to be angry with her. If she hadn't, he would have been out on his arse with no reference and nowhere to go.

Thomas sighed and took his ashtray outside to empty it. The night air was chill and a light frost was already beginning to form on the grounds and the windows. Winter was definitely setting in and Thomas would bet his whole months wages that it would snow in Downton this year. Not that it really mattered one way or another,but it was another reason to be grateful he was not out on the streets. Returning to the servant's hall, he locked the door behind him. He had the curious feeling of being watched:

"Still awake, Thomas? It'll be a long day tomorrow, Lord Grantham has a guest arriving to stay. We'll all need to be at our best."

Mrs Hughes stood at the foot of the stairwell.

"Sorry Mrs Hughes. I'm headed up now." He replied.

"Are you alright, Thomas? Is there anything you need to talk about? I am here to listen you know."

"Thank you, Mrs Hughes but I'm alright. Just tired is all." He half lied. No he wasn't alright.

"If you insist. I'll be here if you need me. Goodnight and get some sleep."

"Good night Mrs Hughes."

She smiled softly at him and returned to her room. Thomas took his time on the stairs, keeping noise to a minimum so as not to wake the others. Shutting his bedroom door behind him, he prepared for bed and once he was settled, switched off his bedside lamp for the night.

* * *

The next morning was a bustle of frantic energy: maids dashing to and fro carrying bedsheets and dusters, Jimmy and Alfred making sure everything was in order under the watchful eye of Mr Carson, and the kitchens were as busy as usual, running like clockwork under Mrs Patmore's iron fist. The day was a rushed affair for the downstairs workers and at six pm, the staff gathered outside to wait for Lord Grantham's guest. Soon a car rumbled along the drive and stopped by the front door. As the chauffeur saw to the car, Alfred reached for the car door to let out its' passenger. A tall, smartly dressed man with dark blond hair stepped out and as he turned around, the young maids giggled. Lord Grantham's guest was a strikingly handsome man; sharp but warm features, an easy smile and green eyes. Thomas was surprised to see that the man was no older than he was.

"Alex! My dear fellow, how are you? I hope your journey wasn't too strenuous?"

Lord Grantham strode forward towards 'Alex', hand outstretched.

"Not at all, Uncle Robert! I hope I'm not putting you to any trouble?" He replied, shaking Lord Grantham's hand. He had a warm Scottish accent.

"Nonsense! I wouldn't have asked you to come here if you were. Come, we must catch up. Oh! Where's your man?"

Alex looked slightly pained as he answered,

"I never did get around to hiring a valet. Mr McClain, my butler was always happy to do it but I'm afraid he passed, Uncle. He'd had a long life in him and he went peacefully. He was my father's butler before me and I hadn't the heart to retire him so I am at a bit of a loss."

"But who's looking after Blair Castle if you have no butler?" Lord Grantham asked.

"A friend of my father's, Sir Walter is keeping an eye on things"

"Oh good. Not to worry, I'm sure we can spare someone. Mr Barrow..."

Thomas snapped to attention having tuned out of the proceedings in favour of his own thoughts.

"Yes, m'lord?"

"If you would be valet to Lord Atholl it would be much appreciated."

"Of course, m'lord."

"Well, let's all get inside shall we?"

Lord Grantham gestured inside and the Crawley family, plus guest, Mr Carson, Mrs Hughes and Thomas stepped inside.

"I'll let Mr Barrow show you to your room and we will see you in the lounge at seven for dinner at eight."

"Wonderful. Well Mr Barrow, lead the way." Lord Atholl turned to look at Thomas.

"If you'd like to follow me, sir."

Thomas led Lord Atholl up the grand staircase, glancing back at the gentleman as he looked at his surroundings. Thomas wasn't aware that Lord Grantham had any other nephews and had never heard of a Lord Atholl before today. He decided to keep his questions to himself as they walked.

"It's been a long time since I've been here." Lord Atholl said absently, "Almost twenty years or so, with my father if I remember right."

"Did you visit often m'lord?" Thomas asked.

"Very often though after my mother passed, our visits became rather infrequent until they stopped altogether. My father was a dear friend of Uncle Robert's from the South African war. They served in the same regiment. I was always encouraged to call him 'Uncle'. I guess I never quite broke out of the habit. Have you been here long Mr Barrow?"

"Just over ten years m'lord. I was first footman before the war." He replied.

Thomas stopped at a heavy painted oak door and waited for Lord Atholl as the latter gazed at a painting on the wall. He made a face and followed on after Thomas. Thomas opened the door and stepped aside. Alfred had already brought up the cases. There were a few of them and Thomas wondered just how long Atholl was staying with this amount of luggage.

_'It's none of my business anyhow.'_ He thought to himself.

"Ah, everything's already here. Good. It's a pleasant room, I should be very comfortable."

Lord Atholl turned to Thomas.

"I suppose we'd better get started then, if Uncle Robert wants me there by seven."

"Would you like some help unpacking, m'lord?" Thomas asked.

"Yes, however I'm not sure where to start. I did say to the Crawleys that I was happy to stay at my father's summer home until the main estate's renovations were complete but they insisted and it has been a while since I've seen them all..."

_'So that's why he's here.'_ Thought Thomas.

"...Lady Cora seems to believe that I would get lonely on my own." He flashed a small smile at Thomas. "I think I'll wear this one tonight."

He picked up a finely tailored black suit from one of the larger cases and sat it on the bed.

"Very good, sir."

After unpacking and putting everything in its' place, Thomas began preparing Lord Atholl for dinner.

"I find this a very strange experience..." The gentleman said to himself.

"If you don't mind me saying m'lord but surely you've lived your whole life having a valet?" Thomas was confused: This man obviously came from old money and had his own inherited estate, why would being dressed by a valet be strange?

"That's not quite what I meant. My butler was an old man and every other butler and valet I met was old or at least the upper end of middle-aged that I almost believed that was a prerequisite for the job. Silly of me, isn't it?" Lord Atholl said sheepishly. "So I'm not used to being dressed by a man who is the same age as me, if not younger. Speaking of which, what is your name? Your first name? It feels a bit odd for me, calling a man as young as you 'Mr'. I always felt that should be reserved for men Mr Carson's age."

If Thomas was slightly taken aback by the question he had enough composure to not let it show.

"Thomas, m'lord"

"A good name. I believe it's time for us to head down, isn't it? Shall we, Thomas?"

A small thrill ran down Thomas' spine although he wasn't entirely sure why. Lord Grantham had often referred to him by name. Why should this be any different? He should be used to the odd quirks of the gentry in his ten years here at Downton. He turned to lead Lord Atholl to the lounge before dinner.

"Just through here, m'lord."

"Thank you Thomas. I suppose I'll see you later tonight?"

He smiled at Thomas and vanished behind the door.

* * *

Seated at the table in the servants hall, Thomas lit up a cigarette and took a long deep breath. The chair next to him slid out with a scrape and Bates sat down beside him.

"Thomas." Bates greeted him.

"Evening Mr Bates."

On the other side of Bates, as per usual, was Anna. Ever faithful Anna. Thomas had never really had a problem with her before Bates turned up. She'd mostly kept herself to herself.

"What's Lord Atholl like? He seemed nice." Anna asked absently as she picked up an old blouse of Lady Mary's that was in need of repair.

"He's alright. Friendly enough sort."

"Is he related to Lord Grantham? He said 'Uncle'." Daisy chimed in as she placed a fresh pot of tea on the table.

"Apparently not. His father was a close family friend..." Thomas began but Mr Carson, who was passing through with a bottle of expensive red wine, cut across him.

"And indeed he was. The late Lord Atholl was a fine man and I certainly hope that his son has inherited his nature."

"It's been some years since I've seen him." Mrs Hughes added. "I used to work in Blair Castle as a maid many years ago. Last time I saw him he was a wee nipper. More tea?"

The downstairs staff took the time to relax while the upstairs dined on roast beef, lovingly prepared by Mrs Patmore. Occasionally Jimmy or Alfred would come by with trays to take to the dining room. As the only guest was Lord Atholl, Mr Carson said that it wouldn't really be necessary to have Thomas in the dining room as well so he took the welcome spare time to have a few more cigarettes and chat with Mrs Hughes. Before long, both footmen flopped into chairs around the servants hall table. Sparing a glance in their direction, he turned to Mrs Hughes who was pouring herself a fresh cup of tea.

"Do you know how long he'll be here for Mrs Hughes? He asked. "He had a fair bit of luggage with him."

"What's it to you?" Jimmy said sharply earning him a quick panicked glance from Alfred, who was in no hurry to get into any trouble after the cricket match. Jimmy had never quite forgiven Thomas for the 'Incident' and had taken to making snide comments whenever Thomas was in the room. It didn't bother him too much. Jimmy could say what he liked and he did admit that the new first footman had every right to be angry. It didn't matter, he had Mrs Hughes (and the Bates') to talk to now.

"Well, since Thomas is the one who has to look after him, I think he has every right to know. Doesn't he, Mrs Hughes?" Anna replied pointedly.

_'Thank you Anna.'_

"Indeed he does. As far as I'm aware, he's going to be staying for a couple of months or so. At least until the restorations at Blair Castle are finished. Beautiful house it is too."

"I had the pleasure of accompanying Lord Grantham there once. Lord Atholl will be missed. He was a good man." Bates said.

A bell rang from the board above Mr Carson's chair to signal that the family was finished in the lounge and were ready to retire.

"We'd better head up Thomas." Said Bates, putting his cup on a nearby tray left out by Ivy.

Thomas nodded, took a last drag on his cigarette and followed Bates from the servant's hall. They climbed the stairs together and parted ways at the landing, each heading for their own destination. He chapped lightly on Lord Atholl's door.


	2. Friendly Chat and Horrible Hangovers

**Thanks for your reviews guys! I couldn't reply to them all though. I do try and if I haven't, I'm very sorry. **

**It's not that I particularly dislike Jimmy, I just don't know enough about him to form an opinion either way. In time I might grow to like him (perhaps series 4) but I'm still not sure about the Thommy pairing , although I like the thought of them as friends first but Fellowes will definitely need to show that developing.**

**I'm pretty much Thomas/Happiness in general and I have this feeling that Thomas could do better... But maybe that's just me. **

* * *

"Come in..." Came the slightly muffled reply.

Thomas eased the heavy door open and stepped inside. Lord Atholl was sitting in an armchair beside the fire, a glass of finest malt whisky in hand, in his shirt, sleeves rolled up.

"Ah, good evening Thomas. I hope yours has been more eventful than mine?"

Lord Atholl looked much more care-worn than he had mere hours before when he had first arrived. Thomas wondered if it was just the journey down from Perthshire or if something happened over dinner with the Crawleys. No, he was sure if something had happened, Alfred and Jimmy would have been running their mouths.

"I'm not sure if it was m'lord. Just sat with the others, had a bit of dinner. Nothing unusual."

"I'm think Mr Carson seemed a little disappointed in me. I think he was hoping I'd take after my father." Lord Atholl said, as he took a sip of whisky.

"Feel free to help yourself if you like, Thomas." He added, pointing at the whisky bottle and gesturing towards the empty chair across from him.

Thinking it impolite to refuse, Thomas poured himself a small measure and sat in the soft, cushioned armchair, staring into the fire.

"I wouldn't worry about it too much m'lord. He doesn't like me very much either."

Lord Atholl chuckled.

"I take after my mother I'm afraid. The Dowager Countess never really approved of her."

Thomas looked up at the gentleman.

"Why? Sorry, I shouldn't ask..."

Lord Atholl just laughed again.

"It's quite alright. In all honesty, my mother was a bit of a tomboy; 'Not ladylike at all' to quote the old Countess. While her sister was sitting learning French from the governess, she was out with her brothers climbing trees and rough-housing. Even my grandmother never thought she'd marry. Always had an opinion too, never afraid to voice it either."

He smiled as he remembered her. Thomas smiled too. Sounds like Lady Sybil and Branson would have had a strong ally, had Lord Atholl's mother been around to see them.

"Didn't seem to bother my father in the slightest. As far as I was aware, they were happy until the day she died."

Thomas looked back at the fire and after a few moment's silence, he asked:

"Can I ask how she died?"

"Pneumonia. It hit her hard. Unfortunately, the medicines the doctors gave her had little effect and she wasn't able to recover." Lord Atholl replied sadly and downed the rest of his glass.

Thomas followed suit. The whisky burned pleasantly in his throat as he appreciated its' fine quality. Miles better than anything they served in the Grantham Arms. Lord Atholl had risen from his chair and had begun to pour himself a new glass.

"Another?" He asked, raising the bottle for Thomas to see.

"If that's alright m'lord?" Thomas asked. Sometimes, though not very often, Lord Grantham would offer him a quick dram if it had been a particularly trying day for everyone, (such as the days after sweet Lady Sybil passed or when there was a large party of guests) but he wasn't sure if it was entirely appropriate to be sitting here drinking with a guest. However, Lord Atholl's easy, relaxed demeanour seemed to be infectious. Atholl wandered back over to Thomas and refilled his glass.

"You said earlier that Mr Carson didn't like you, why would you think that?" He said as he eased himself back into his armchair.

Thomas bit back a laugh.

"When I was a footman, I used to be close to Her Ladyship's Lady's maid, O'Brien. When I first arrived, she took me under her wing. She's not the nicest of women is O'Brien, let's put it that way."

Lord Atholl nodded and leaned forward, bare forearms on his knees.

"For lack of a better way of putting it, I became quite the horrible, cocky little shit and Mr Carson didn't like that. Even when I stopped listening to O'Brien, I didn't exactly do anything to endear myself to him."

Lord Atholl gave a throaty laugh.

"Everyone's a little shit when they're younger! I certainly caused enough problems for my father as a teen. Getting into his drinks cabinet, trying to smoke, anything that would annoy him most. Everyone's done it at some point."

Thomas looked up at Atholl stunned and began to laugh himself. It felt nice to be at ease around someone besides Mrs Hughes. Thomas vaguely wondered if it might have something to do with the accent... then promptly dismissed that theory. He'd never felt at ease with Dr. Clarkson while working at the hospital, though that may be his feeling around doctors in general.

"You're lost in thought." Lord Atholl's voice interrupted his inner ramblings.

Thomas paused before saying:

"I'm... I'm trying to turn over a new leaf. I don't want to be that person I was with Ms O'Brien. I'm not really succeeding though. Sorry, you didn't need to know that." He apologised, taking another sip from his glass.

Atholl was quiet for a moment. Thomas was sure he'd now certainly overstepped the bounds of professionalism by getting personal and began to tidy their now empty glasses and prepare Lord Atholl's bed clothes. What the Earl said next surprised Thomas.

"The fact that you're trying to mend bridges with your colleagues at all should go in your favour. The effects won't be immediate and I would be amazed if they were but as you're finding out, it will take time. I will say this though: the ones who notice and acknowledge your efforts to repair your relationships will be the ones who matter in the end."

Thomas was, for perhaps the first time in his life, lost for words. And the funny thing was, Lord Atholl was right.

* * *

It was almost quarter to eleven when Thomas finally made his way back to the servants quarters. Everyone had seemed to have gone to bed already, all with the exception of...

"Mr Barrow! Where on earth have you been?"

...Mr Carson, and he didn't look happy.

_'Best to just apologise, get it over with and get to bed.' _Thought Thomas.

"I'm sorry Mr Carson. Lord Atholl and I had gotten to chatting when I went up. I'm afraid I lost track of time. It won't happen again."

Mr Carson seemed a little thrown by Thomas' apology. Thomas and sincerity were two things he thought he'd never see again: the only other time being that unfortunate incident a few months ago. Carson knew that Thomas' nature was not of his own doing but that didn't stop him being wary of the young under-butler. He couldn't deny that however much he may dislike Thomas, the man was definitely good at his job and that was a rare quality these days.

"Be sure that it doesn't. Now, off with you." He said sternly, shooing Thomas upstairs.

"Yes Mr Carson. Goodnight."

"Goodnight Mr Barrow."

Thomas climbed the narrow stairs to his bedroom. He wasn't quite ready for bed yet despite his late night last night. He sat on the edge of his bed, mulling over what Lord Atholl had said to him. The man was right. The ones that were willing to try and help, to try and accept him without his mask and defensive barbs; they were the ones whose opinions truly mattered. He made a mental note to do something to thank Mrs Hughes for her support. Perhaps Bates too, even though he didn't seem too happy that Thomas had been kept on at first, but he had appeared to have gotten over it. Thomas wondered vaguely what he could he could do. No, that could wait until tomorrow.

After a quick wash and change into his night clothes, Thomas lay back on his bed, pulling his blankets up and around himself and stared at the ceiling. It was getting very chilly in the servant's quarters this winter even with all the fireplaces and stoves in most of the rooms. He thought some more about the man who had given him this piece of helpful advice. Atholl was a complete unknown by Thomas' reckoning. He wasn't even sure why he was listening to the man's advice at all. What did the upper class know about effort and hard work? True, Lady Sybil had gone out of her way to make herself indispensable during the war; going to nurses college, helping run Downton as a convalescent home, but she was an anomaly amongst her kind and Thomas had respected and liked her for it. But Lord Atholl had an air about him that made Thomas want to listen. He was easy to talk to and that had surprised him. However, was that a good thing? If he wasn't careful, he could end up revealing a lot more than he ought to and in his case, that would make for a very dangerous situation.

Thomas turned over and plumped up his pillow. Sleep was escaping him for the moment. He sorely wished he had had another glass of whisky before he left Lord Atholl's room. Perhaps that would have helped...

* * *

Six am came all too soon for Thomas' liking. The loud chap on the door and the hall boy's yell was extremely unwelcome. Thomas groaned, burying his face into his pillow. Easing himself from his bed, his feet hit the cold floor and he winced. Quickly finding his slippers and night coat, Thomas washed and shaved before pulling on his butlers' uniform. He stood in front of his mirror for a few minutes to smooth his hair and make himself presentable.

After making his way downstairs and into the servant's hall, he sat down at his usual seat at the table and helped himself to tea and toast.

"Morning Mr Barrow!" Said Ivy, as she placed more toast and butter on the table for the maids and footmen who were just arriving.

"Morning Ivy."

A little babble of chatter broke out while the staff took their seats and set about their breakfasts. One by one, the bells corresponding to each of the Crawleys rang to say the family was awake. Thomas kept an eye and ear out for Lord Atholl in the main guest room but it never rang. Half eight rolled by but still no summons from Atholl.

"Mr Carson? Do you think I should take some tea up for Lord Atholl or leave him a while longer?"

Mr Carson thought for a moment then said:

"Yes, but leave it until nine. He may just be a late riser."

"Yes Mr Carson."

Thomas decided that he might as well have another cup of tea while he waited. When nine o' clock approached, he asked Mrs Patmore for a tray of tea and toast.

"He's late isn't he? If only we get to lie in for a day but nope! Not us!" She said, passing the Thomas the tray.

Thomas smirked and made his way up to Lord Atholl's room. Holding the tray raised in one hand, he chapped on the door.

"M'lord, it's nine o' clock. I've brought you some tea and toast."

No answer.

Thomas opened the door as gently as he could to find the room almost pitch dark. In the gloom, he made out the dresser and, after sitting the tray on the dresser he went to open one of the blinds slightly. Just enough for him to see what he was doing.

"Leave it, please." Came Lord Atholl's slightly strained voice.

"M'lord?"

From under the thick blankets on the large kingsize bed and looking decidedly worse for wear, Lord Atholl's ruffled head raised itself blearily over the blankets. Thomas' first thought was '_hangover_' and judging by the now very empty whisky bottles that were still on the table from last night, he had had a lot more than before Thomas had left.

"Are you alright, m'lord? Can I get you anything?"

Atholl groaned and flopped back into bed.

"No. I'm sorry. I couldn't sleep last night; new place, new bed. Got a little carried away. My head hurts something dreadful. I can't remember which of my suitcases had aspirin in it, do you? It was in a little glass bottle..."

Thomas did know where it was. He had put them in the top drawer in the dresser. He poured some tea and took out two of the small pills and handed both to Lord Atholl.

"Thank you." Said the man. "I'll wager I look rather frightful this morning, be honest?"

Thomas shook his head.

"Well, we'll certainly need to do something about that bed hair if we're going to make you presentable for breakfast."

Lord Atholl groaned again, sounding rather pitiful and threw the blankets over his head.

"Must I go? Can't I suffer here in private instead?" Said the small, muffled voice under the sheets.

_'Sorry m'lord.'_ Thought Thomas, _'No mercy for a hangover.'_

"I expect Lord Grantham will expecting to see you this morning though m'lord." Thomas said.

"I suppose. I might need a little help to feel a bit more... human. A bath perhaps?"

"Of course m'lord."

As Thomas turned to go to the adjoining bathroom to start running a bath for Lord Atholl, the gentleman spoke again:

"And Thomas, thank you. For seeing my shame and not laughing. Out loud at least." He managed a small smile in Thomas's direction.

And Thomas couldn't help but return it.


	3. Dull Breakfasts and Surprise Outings

**Hi guys, this chapter is every so slightly shorter than my last ones. But on the plus side, Two exams down, one to go!**

**I decided to write some more to try and relax along with my knitting. Just finished a pair of Harry Potter house mittens (Ravenclaw. I'm actually a Slytherin but I'm broke and I've only got blue yarn right now so sue me... Or not. No money remember!)**

* * *

Morning dragged slowly for Lord Atholl as he sat in the breakfast hall with Lord Grantham, Mr Crawley, and Mr Branson. Lady Edith had been and gone already and he had enjoyed talking to her. She was rather excited by the rave reviews her newspaper column had received that week. Atholl was glad for her. She was a modern woman doing something she loved. There were a lot of people who would envy her job satisfaction. He very much hoped Lady Edith wouldn't let the lingering issue of Mr Gregson stop her from pursuing it. He rather liked her column.

Lord Atholl lifted the delicate china teacup to his lips and looked around the table: seated at the head, Lord Grantham was engrossed in the Times, particularly the finance section. Lord Atholl was aware of Downton Abbey's recent money worries, having been regaled with the tale at dinner of the disastrous attempt at rail investment on Lord Grantham's part only to be unexpectedly rescued by the late Mr Swire's fortune left to Mr Crawley. Atholl wasn't entirely taken with Matthew Crawley if he was perfectly honest. Not that the man was unlikeable, quite the contrary, but he was rather... well... dull. For most of the morning, Matthew had spoken only of the new farm and tenant system he and Mr Branson were implementing in Downton to bring it up-to-date; none of which Lord Atholl really understood (Blair House left in the very capable hands of his manager). He nodded, hmm'ed, and ah'ed in the right places and feigned an interest which he hoped was convincing.

Atholl glanced up from his tea in Thomas' direction who was standing opposite Mr Carson behind Lord Grantham. The under-butler had apparently been paying attention to the conversation at the table and was, if the smirk on his face was anything to go by, clearly aware that Lord Atholl was having as much fun as watching paint dry. He briefly wondered if he had been completely obvious in his disinterest and surreptitiously gave quick looks at his company. Mr Crawley continued on, oblivious that most of his words were going over Atholl's head and seemed not to notice Mr Branson's attempts to change the subject (as if to spare him the boredom). Atholl appreciated the attempts all the same even though Mr Branson was also keen to work on their plans. Mr Branson: he had heard a lot about the bold ex-chauffeur however, he was sad to say he found himself rather disappointed. Understandably, the man was still grieving for his wife, but there seemed to be no trace of the firecracker, Irish socialist that he'd been hearing stories all about. However, they had spoken amicably that morning. Branson, like himself, haven shown an interest in Lady Edith's chosen career.

Folding up his newspaper, Lord Grantham turned to speak to Atholl:

"Any plans for today Alex?"

"Not in particular. I was hoping to explore the village. I understand that Mr's Crawley and Branson," he gestured at his dining companions, "are going to the farms today. I think I'd only be in the way so I was wondering if I could borrow one of your cars and make a day of it: visit the surrounding towns, the countryside..."

"Sounds like an excellent plan but surely you're not thinking of going alone?" Mr Crawley said.

"Actually, since you're all busy today, and if Mr Carson wouldn't mind sparing him, perhaps Mr Barrow could accompany me?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Thomas's head jump up and turn towards him. He looked surprised. So did Mr Carson.

"Splendid idea!" Lord Grantham nodded, "Carson, we can spare Barrow today can't we?"

"I... I suppose so m'lord. As long as he's back before the dinner service." He said pointedly, glancing at Thomas as though daring him to do otherwise.

"Well, since that's sorted, you should ask Mrs Patmore for something to take with you. We'd better get a move on if we're to get a good start on organising the farms." Lord Grantham said as he stood up. "I will see you later today Alex, enjoy visiting the county."

"I will, Uncle Robert. It was very nice getting to chat with you this morning Mr Branson. I feel I didn't get to speak with you much last night." Lord Atholl said, shaking Branson's hand firmly.

"It was a pleasure." Branson replied.

All four men left the breakfast hall with Mr Carson and Thomas following behind. As Mr Carson headed down to the servant's quarters, Lord Atholl caught up with Thomas in the hallway.

"I hope you don't mind me volunteering you for my little day trip?" He grinned at him.

"Not at all m'lord but why me exactly?" Thomas asked, cooly composed as usual. Lord Atholl's grin widened.

"Consider it payback for making get up early for breakfast this morning. And for having a gloat at my expense. Business plans always put me off my tea..."

* * *

Thomas made his way to the kitchens and asked Mrs Patmore for a hamper to take with them on the day trip.

"Where's he going?" Daisy asked, buttering bread for the sandwiches.

"Dunno yet. All he said was that he wanted to see the village and county." He said, stealing a bit of iced gingerbread from the tray.

"Oi! Save that for later you!" Said Mrs Patmore, slapping Thomas' hand good-naturedly. _'He's a nice lad really, bit rough 'round the edges mind...'_

"Right, that's lunch for the two of you; there's sandwiches, cake, some fresh lemonade and some fruit. That should do, shouldn't it?" She said

"Don't forget the scones, Mrs Patmore!" Yelled Ivy over by the oven.

"Yes, the scones..." She muttered as she placed a cloth wrapped parcel into the hamper.

"Bit much for two don't you think?" Thomas asked, raising an eyebrow at the growing mountain of food.

"Walking around the countryside is hungry work isn't it? And if you don't finish it, just bring it back!"

"I've got no idea where to take him though. Any suggestions?" He asked.

"How about the churches?" Said Ivy, "Some of the ones round here are so pretty."

"I don't think he's really interested in things like that. He looked like he wanted to hang himself when Mr Matthew was talking about the preserving the old stone parts of the farms."

At that moment, Mrs Hughes wandered through the kitchen on her way to the pantry. Catching a glimpse of the hamper, she smiled.

"Oh? What's this? A picnic?" She asked.

"Mr Barrow's going for day trip with Lord Atholl, Mrs Hughes." Said Daisy. "Mrs Patmore's made lunch for them."

"That's nice. Where are you going?"

"He doesn't know."

"Thank you Daisy but I can tell her myself." Thomas rolled his eyes.

"If I remember right, Lord Atholl was the outdoors type as a boy. Maybe he still is? Perhaps you could take him on one of the countryside walks?"

Thomas thought about that. If he showed Lord Atholl around the churches and villages then at least they would have something to talk about. However, on a countryside walk, they would have to invent conversation and he wasn't sure if he could cope with any awkward silences especially around a man as attractive as the young earl. He nearly always found some way to put his foot in his mouth or say things he shouldn't. He remembered the time he had almost told Lieutenant Courtney about his homosexuality. He had managed to stop himself that time but it was too risky. He'd had a few close shaves before and although he may have found acceptance within this house, he couldn't be sure of newcomers.

"Thomas? Still with us?" Mrs Hughes' amused voice snapped him out of his train of thought. "I just wondered if you're going to get changed out of your uniform before going? I don't think Mr Carson would be too happy if you traipsed through mud and dirt and then turned up for the dinner service."

Thomas nodded, "I was planning on it. I'm just heading up now."

"In fact, best put a spare change of clothes in the car. Just in case. You never know with this weather."

"Will do, Mrs Hughes."

"Oh, and Mrs Hughes, I need to nip out to the post office after. Is that alright?" the cook asked.

"Of course! Daisy can take care of things here for a little while, can't she?"

"Yes Mrs Hughes!"

Mrs Hughes smiled and with that, continued on her way.

* * *

A quick change into a clean and freshly pressed suit later, the food hamper packed and loaded into the car, Thomas waited for Lord Atholl in the foyer. After a few minutes Lord Atholl left the library with Lord Grantham.

"I'll see you later Alex. Enjoy yourself." Lord Grantham said, clapping Atholl on the shoulder and before leaving with Matthew to prepare for their day at the farm, he spoke to Thomas:

"I'm expecting you to keep an eye out for Lord Atholl today Mr Barrow. He's in your charge."

"Yes, m'lord."

Lord Atholl had wandered over to Thomas' side as Lord Grantham spoke. He smiled at him.

"Ready to go, Thomas?"

The under-butler nodded, "Everything's in the car already m'lord."

The old chauffeur, Mr Branson's replacement Mr Dobson, was stood at the side of the open top car and leaned over to open the door for Lord Atholl however, the earl smiled and held his hand out for the car keys.

"M'lord? A... are you sure?" The chauffeur stammered, quickly glancing at the car.

"I'm perfectly sure. Consider it a day off."

"Very well m'lord. If you're sure. Take care and enjoy your day."

"We certainly will." Said Atholl as he slid into the driver's seat and turned to Thomas, "Shall we?"

As Thomas sat down and shut the car door Lord Atholl started up the engine. A sudden, worrying thought occurred to Thomas.

"M'lord? You can drive, can't you?"

"Nope." Atholl replied, sounding completely serious. Thomas looked over at him in horror and unconsciously grasped the door handle until the tips of his fingers turned white.

"Relax Thomas. Of course I can drive! I wouldn't have gotten behind the wheel otherwise." Atholl laughed, enjoying the looked of unconcealed terror on Thomas' face.

"Please, never do that again m'lord." Thomas breathed out a long slow breath he didn't realise he was holding.

"Sorry, couldn't resist teasing you. The look on your face was priceless."

Thomas glared at the man as they rumbled down the gravel path out of the estate grounds. Atholl noticed and grinned to himself. Clearly Thomas wasn't as amused by his joke as he was. Glancing at angry under-butler, he spoke:

"Alright, I'm relying mostly on you today Thomas. It's been a long time since I've been in the county and even then I didn't often leave Downton. So, where are we going?"

"Well, Ripon and Thirsk are always worth a look. Mrs Hughes said there's nice countryside walks too, if you like that sort of thing, m'lord"

"I do actually! I'm glad she remembered. And it's Alex."

Thomas looked up, "I'm sorry sir?"

"Alex. Call me Alex. It'll be a long day for you if you're constantly having to say m'lord all day. And besides, it's starting to irritate me a little."

Thomas' jaw dropped. Atholl laughed.

"Honestly! You'd think I'd just asked you to streak through Downton. It's a name, Thomas. It won't kill you... well, unless Carson hears you, then it just might!"


	4. Sunny Days and Snowy Evenings

**Thanks for the reviews guys! Here's chapter 4. **

**Watched the NTA Awards tonight. I'm glad Downton Abbey won but I feel bad for the Merlin fandom. It was really unfair, I like Merlin, Sherlock, and Doctor Who too. It was as if they were asking us to choose which one if our kids we loved more! :(**

* * *

It had been a pleasant day so far and although it had been bright and sunny early in the day, it was getting very cold and dark, with clouds gathering on the horizon. As they drove towards Thirsk, Thomas pulled his black scarf tighter and his heavy woollen coat closer. The open-top car was certainly a bad choice for a day-trip in the middle of winter though it was much faster than the old carriage car. He flexed his hand. Thomas' left hand always felt horribly stiff and sore around this time of year when the weather turns chilly. He was glad the scarring had died down over the past few years (though it would never be quite the same) but always preferred to keep it covered. He rubbed his gloved hands to try to warm them and relieve some of the stiffness and glanced over at his driving companion, noting the absent smile lingering on Lord Atholl's face. Even though the earl had insisted that Thomas use his given name, he just couldn't bring himself to do so, using any means he could think of to avoid it. It just didn't feel right, not to him at least. Too intimate, especially towards someone of greatly higher social status. Thomas wasn't a revolutionary: he didn't think it the end of the world now that things were changing after the war but there were some things that he felt should still be upheld. Thomas had standards after all. Living day-in-day-out with Mr Carson for ten years tended to drill that into you.

Earlier that morning, Thomas and the earl had wandered around Ripon, browsed the shops and stopped for tea at a local tea room to get out of the cold for a while. They had chatted about many things; Atholl's childhood, where he grew up, Thomas' family, his time at Downton Abbey and some of his and O'Brien's schemes (though definitely only the funnier plans). They had passed a relaxing afternoon with some of Mrs Patmore's sandwiches as they walked along the country walks Mrs Hughes had pointed out to him before they left. He had enjoyed himself thoroughly and to his surprise, the informal conversation he had had with Lord Atholl the night before was not a one-off. Despite his worries, Thomas found that finding things to talk about came naturally. Occasionally they would lapse into silence but it never seemed uncomfortable. Atholl seemed completely at ease in Thomas' company which surprised the under-butler. There were few if any people who relaxed around him. He equated this to his defensive nature: it put people on edge.

As the clouds drifted closer and closer, a wind had started to pick up across the fields and the trees as they zipped past. By the time they had reached the outskirts of Thirsk, the sky, bright, clear, and sunny only that morning, had become opaque. Snow was on it's way and they were a good distance away from Downton. Thomas looked up as tiny little flakes hit his face. If it snowed heavily now, they'd be in trouble. It would too far to double back to Downton and this car definitely wasn't designed for it. He briefly considered pointing this out to Lord Atholl but a cursory peek over at the earl told him that he was already considering their options just in case.

The town centre of the village of Thirsk was nearing as Lord Atholl turned into the high street. The snow was indeed getting heavier and was quickly piling up, making the streets treacherous. Pulling in to a local garage, they stepped out of the car. Thomas grabbed the emergency overnight suitcase he had packed that morning and struggled to suppress his old instinct to open the door for the earl, earning him a sly smile from Atholl.

"I appreciate the thought Thomas, but I can manage." He said, fixing his hat as they walked. "This is a rather pretty town, wouldn't you say? A lot smaller than Ripon."

"It is. Most of Mrs Patmore's larder comes from here. There's a good suppliers just round that corner m'lo..." Thomas stopped at a pointed glare from Atholl. "Sorry."

"And for the record, if you're not going to use my name Thomas, then I'm not going to bother speaking to you. Don't think I haven't noticed you try to avoid it all day."

* * *

The snow was falling thick and fast now, making it difficult to see properly. After a few moments in the swirling white flakes, Lord Atholl suggested they take shelter in a nearby pub for the evening. The Flying Duck was the largest pub in the small village of Thirsk. It seemed to be a popular place for locals and it had the best price for a pint of bitter in town. Stepping into the The Flying Duck, Lord Atholl and Thomas looked at the patrons: some of them looked to be regulars but most appeared to be just those who escaping from the snow. Lord Atholl stuffed a ten pound note into Thomas's hand and said;

"Alright. You get us a couple of pints in and I'll speak to the landlord about some rooms. Just in case we can't get back."

Thomas nodded and made his way to the bar, dodging spilling beers and lit cigarettes. The bar was exceptionally crowded and it took more than a little effort to find Atholl again without dropping their glasses. The lucky sod had managed to secure two seats near the open fire though how he had done it, Thomas was unsure. It seemed unlikely that there would be any rooms available but Thomas wondered if Atholl had got lucky with that too. Unlikely: the pub was too busy. Passing the earl a pint and his change, Thomas sat down and took a drink of his beer.

"Thought you'd be staying away from alcohol today after last night, Alex?"

"Well done! You used my name. That wasn't so difficult was it? And yes, I did think about it. Decided I still wanted one anyway."

Thomas smiled. Despite the amount of people in the room, the customers were quiet and subdued as the wind howled outside. After a calm half hour of companionable silence, slouching comfortably in the armchairs and two empty pint glasses, Atholl spoke:

"Maybe it's time I told you, I did manage to get a room..."

Thomas perked up a little. "That's good! I thought it'd be too busy."

_'Great! We've got rooms, that means I can call Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes and let them know what's happened without worrying.' _He thought.

"...Only that's just it: it's _a_ room and it's not a twin room. None of those were left. I hope you don't mind sharing with me?" Atholl asked cautiously, trying to gauge the young under-butler's reaction.

Thomas's face fell a little. Oh that wasn't good. It had been a long time since he had shared a bed with another man, sexual or otherwise, and it wasn't like Thomas had a good track record around attractive gentlemen; his last real relationship, the Duke, had ended badly and his attempt to seduce the late Mr Pamuk stuck out clearly in his mind.

_'It'll be alright.'_ He told himself, _'Just keep your hands to yourself and it'll be alright.'_

"I've no problem with it."

"Your face says otherwise." Said the earl. "I was worried you might which is why I waited until you finished your pint before telling you. I thought you might need it."

* * *

As the evening ticked by, most of the overnight patrons had retreated to their rooms for the night until Thomas and Atholl were the only ones besides a few drunk old men and the staff left in the room. They hadn't spoke of their sleeping arrangements since earlier that evening and Thomas had felt the anxiety gnawing away at his insides as he thought about the restless night he was no doubt about to experience.

"I think it's about time we headed up, Thomas. I think the good landlord wants to close up for the night." Said Atholl.

"Suppose so." Thomas replied and slowly eased himself out of the chair.

They climbed the narrow stairs together, Thomas following behind, unsure of where they were going. At the end of the dimly lit corridor, Atholl opened the door to their room. The room was small but functional: a double bed and table was placed across from a sturdy window where outside the wind raged muffled by the thick glass and heavy wooden frame and a small wood burning stove sat crackling merrily in the corner of the room. Putting the overnight suitcase on the dresser, Thomas wondered if Mrs Hughes had foreseen this and if she had, he wished she'd have enlightened him about it. They would have been able to plan better if they'd have known. He and the earl might not have gotten stuck here otherwise.

As Thomas was silently ranting at Mrs Hughes, Lord Atholl had begun getting ready for bed on his own, stripping down to his underclothes and removing his undershirt. Thomas bit his lip and tried desperately not to stare as inch-by-inch Atholl's bare, lightly tanned skin was revealed to him. This was different than last night and this morning: those times were his duty and although he had admitted to himself that he found Atholl appealing and most definitely to his tastes, he had promised himself he wouldn't do anything as stupid as his previous exploits and trying anything with Lord Atholl certainly qualified as foolish. Thomas had only known Atholl a day yet he felt curiously drawn to him. He knew from his past experience with Jimmy that that was a very dangerous feeling indeed and it almost cost him everything..

"Are you going to sleep in your suit, Thomas?" An amused voice sounded from behind him.

In his distracted daze, Thomas hadn't noticed Lord Atholl slide into the bed. He shook his head and began to strip to his underclothes, feeling awkwardly inadequate beside the earl's sculpted physique. Slipping between the sheets, he left space between him and Atholl and turned on his side to switch off the bedside lamp.

"Goodnight Thomas."

"Goodnight Alex."

He felt Lord Atholl shift around to get comfortable as he lay awake. Soon, the earl's breathing became even and quiet indicating that he was now fast asleep.

_'This isn't as bad as I thought it would be. Maybe I was worrying for nothing?' _He thought.

He was warm, much warmer than he would have been back in his room at Downton, and comfortable. Thomas felt himself drift off happily as the crackling from the stove lulled him to sleep. All seemed to be going well until a couple of hours later when Thomas was startled awake by Lord Atholl throwing his arm around his waist in his sleep and pressing himself to Thomas's back. Thomas tensed; he could feel the rise and fall of the earl's chest, his soft breaths against his neck, and the heat and smell of expensive soap from the earl's skin on his. Thomas could feel the sensation of arousal building uncomfortably and shifted a little to create more space between himself and his sleep-hugging charge but was quickly pulled back into Atholl's grip. There was no way he was getting back to sleep now. Thomas sighed, wide awake and hopelessly aroused he thought:

_'This is going to be a really long night.'_


	5. Restless Sleep and Tentative Exploration

**Um. Ok. Not sure where this chapter came from. It's not where I planned on this chapter going but I quite like it... Oh well. **

**Thanks to those who have reviewed so far!**

**EDIT: Has anyone else noticed that when you use the cut/paste function on this site, it misses out words and phrases? When I went back over this, little things were missing that I KNOW were there when I typed it (I use an iPad, I can't upload directly.). Not a clue what's going on there.**

**Quick warning: this chapter does contain sexual content, if that bothers you, then please backspace at your earliest convenience. **

* * *

Morning took forever to arrive as Thomas lay awake. Atholl's weight on him was at least keeping him warm since the fire had died out during the night. He had surrendered to and began to enjoy being used as a pillow : he was too tired to resist and had even managed to doze off again in the early hours. Thomas lifted his head to look out of the window between the gaps in the curtains. The rooftop opposite was blanketed in a thick cloak of white, flakes still drifted lazily down on to the already smothered streets. They weren't going anywhere soon. Thomas resigned himself to staying put and lay back into the pillows and heavy sheets. He felt Atholl shift behind him and bury his face into his neck. The awkwardness of the situation was only lessened, Thomas thought, by the fact that the earl would have no memory of this when he woke. He checked the clock. It read seven am. Past time for him to get up and made a move to rise and get dressed. Some tea and breakfast wouldn't go amiss right now.

"Where d'you think you're going? You're not at Downton. Don't need to get up..." Came a sleep-slurred mumble in his ear, and soft hands gripped gently at his waist. "Come back to bed..."

"It's seven, Alex..." Thomas started.

"I saw. Too early." Atholl groaned, hands insistently pulling Thomas back into the bed and nuzzling below the under-butler's ear. "Besides, it's cold. Come here."

Thomas stifled a moan and could feel the arousal of last night rear its' embarrassing head again and shifted to try to relieve it a little. Lord Atholl, no, Alex's words sound like an invitation (it felt wrong to call him by his title when his head was full of lust-filled thoughts of this sweet, kind man). It had been too long since he'd been with a another man, far too long, that Alex's every touch and innocent sentence sounded like a come-on. It was hard to resist such a tempting proposition with that sleep husked voice in his ear: to lie the earl's arms, nobody coming to check on them. No-one expecting them back.

'_Alex is half asleep. He didn't really mean what he said.' _Thomas told himself.

Though even he found that hardly convincing with the way Alex's hands slid gently across his stomach, pulling him closer to soft, warm skin and holding Thomas firmly to his chest. The sensation was torment, knowing what he wanted from this but unable to obtain it. The frustration was becoming infuriating as the hands grew more bold and travelled lower. He gasped as they absently stroked a sensitive spot. Thomas, forgetting his promise to not give in to any temptation, relaxed and sank into the touch, and let himself pretend he was being embraced by a lover.

* * *

Alex sighed happily as he awoke to the warm skin and comforting presence of his sleeping-companion. He could tell that Thomas was awake and, to his relief, the young under-butler didn't seem perturbed by Alex's closeness and had in fact relaxed into him. He had worried about that what with Thomas' reaction to their shared accommodation the night before. Perhaps he had been mistaken. He nestled closer to the man, taking in his faint smell of soap and soft wisps of black hair on the nape of his neck.

The idea of lying with a man had never really occurred to Alex until last night, when seeing Thomas stripped down to his underwear had sparked something in him, something lusty and forbidden. He found himself wondering what it would be like. It was true that he had never married, felt the desire to marry or met anyone he would even consider it with. He never thought that he would discover that he enjoyed the feel of another man in his arms and that it could be so satisfying. It really hammered home what could be the real, unspoken reason for his prolonged bachelorhood. There was no denying that Thomas was beautiful. Thomas' ivory skin, dark hair, and sharp cheekbones that accentuated striking blue eyes, Alex found that these features appealed to him in a way that the same qualities on a woman never did.

He felt Thomas try to get up and put his hands on his waist to stop him. The clock said seven, far too early for people with nothing to do and nowhere to go.

"Where d'you think you're going? You're not at Downton. Don't need to get up... Come back to bed..." He said

"It's seven, Alex..." Thomas started to argue.

"I saw. Too early." Alex groaned, pulling Thomas back down into the mattress and between the heavy sheets. "Besides, it's cold. Come here."

He wrapped himself around Thomas, pulled the sheets around the two of them again and gently ran his hands across the man's stomach, resting his head against his neck. Alex felt Thomas tense and relax again, an almost imperceptible moan escaping the butler's lips. He sighed and continued his ministrations, taking pleasure the small gasps he could elicit. He was immensely grateful that Thomas was open and responsive to his touch and willing to allow him this, his first tenuous steps into exploring another man's body. Alex briefly wondered if Thomas had had sexual experience with men before but quickly found he didn't care when he stroked further below Thomas's navel and Thomas let out a cry of pleasure. He turned Thomas over on to his back, noting the half tented pitch of his underclothes and the pink flush across his cheeks. The sight sent thrills down Alex's spine and he could feel himself growing hard.

"Thomas?" He reached out to cup his chin. "Can I?" He asked.

There were a few moments silence punctuated by Thomas' aroused panting as he tried to catch his breath back. He nodded and Alex pressed a chaste kiss to his temple.

"I'm new to this, with... with another man I mean. But I want to. Have patience with me Thomas." The earl said before placing a kiss on Thomas lips.

He moaned again as Alex ran his hands down his sides stopping at the hem of his underclothes. The earl slipped them off and discarded them on the floor followed shortly with his own. Once they were skin to skin, Alex let out a satisfied grunt as they rocked together, hands roaming. They picked up a rhythm, gasping and panting as they slid sweat-slicked against each other, Thomas holding on to Alex's shoulders, bucking his hips to get more contact. He leant down and kissed Thomas deeply and felt Thomas reach a hand down between them. Following suit, he grasped Thomas, revelling in the needy, desperate moans as he stroked him. With the added pleasurable friction, it wasn't long before Alex was releasing with a long groan, Thomas following him over the edge moments later.

Collapsing on to Thomas's chest, Alex sighed: "Thank you Thomas." And pulled Thomas in for a long slow kiss.

* * *

Thomas' mind was numb. What was he doing? Hadn't he promised himself he wouldn't do anything like this again? What had he been thinking? Oh, that's right, he had thrown that promise in the dirt when Alex was holding him. Alex pulled Thomas in for a kiss which he couldn't help reciprocating. When he pulled back, Thomas pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to calm his breathing to quell the growing panic that was rising in his chest.

"Thomas? Are you alright?" He felt the earl place a hand on his cheek. He saw Alex's eyes widen, as he looked at his face, "Damn! You didn't really want this, did you? Oh God Thomas, I'm so sorry!"

He could hear the distress in Alex's voice and instantly looked up. Alex wasn't looking at him anymore. He was sitting up now, his eyes wide and horrified. Thomas hadn't meant for that to happen.

"What? No! I did want this! I did! It's just... I've been here before."

Alex looked at Thomas again, a little less panicked but still confused.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"I've... I've been with men before. My last, proper relationship... It was... It didn't end well. This won't end well either. Whatever 'this' is. It never does." Said Thomas sadly. This wasn't a relationship, he knew that. This was the earl satisfying his curiosity. This had been fun, dangerous fun. The earl had been willing and they both enjoyed it but he barely knew him.

"So, you're not angry?" Alex asked warily.

He put a hand on the earl's cheek, "No, I'm not angry." '_Not at you anyway.'_

"You said you'd never been with men before, Alex. What makes me different? Why me?"

Alex lay back down, put a hand on his forehead and sighed.

"I don't know Thomas. I can't explain why when I don't understand it myself. I just felt drawn to you when I met you, still do. Does that sound strange?"

No. No, it didn't sound strange to Thomas. He thought back to the first time he set eyes on Jimmy almost a year ago. He understood that feeling of being inexplicably drawn to someone.

'_And look how that turned out' _he thought bitterly.

"That's not so strange." He smiled softly.

Alex smiled back. "Will you help me? Understand, I mean." He asked, lacing his fingers with Thomas'.

Thomas looked at their entwined hands and the pleading look in the earl's eyes. He wished he'd had someone to help him when he first discovered his sexuality and come to terms with himself. Maybe he wouldn't be where he ended up: listening to the wrong people, taking the wrong advice. He wasn't exactly in the best position to be dishing out advice but if Alex wanted his help then he'll definitely try.

"I think I can do that." He replied though after a moments paused he added, "Tell you what, we'll do a deal. You help me turn my life around and I help you understand yourself. Deal?"

Alex grinned, "Deal."

They lay facing each together in silence for a while Alex ran his hand absently along Thomas' upper arm. The early morning light streamed in through the curtains, brighter than usual from the glare on the thick snow. They could hear the sounds of other patrons shuffling sleepily down the corridors in search of breakfast.

"Looks like we're not going anywhere Thomas. We should get some breakfast."

"We should. I'll get washed up and go ask the landlord. Might be able to get it sent up. What'll we do today? Not many options to choose from."

Alex grinned, "I can think of a few things..."


	6. Important Advice and Private Lessons

**Well, here's chapter 6. I've got a rough plan of where this is going. It'll be around 15 chapters or more... I think.**

**I'm glad you seem to like Lord Atholl. I've never written an OC before so I was slightly worried about his reception. I know there quite a few readers out there are put off by them and I used to be one of them!**

**QUICK WARNING!: This chapter has strong(ish) sexual content. As last time, if this bothers you, please backspace.**

**Otherwise enjoy!**

* * *

Slipping their underclothes back on to preserve their modesty on the short journey to the washroom, Thomas and Alex padded their way down the hall and opened the door. The clothes stuck uncomfortably on their sweaty, cooling skin. The white tiles were cold under their feet as they looked about, acquainting themselves with the facilities. The large bathtub under the skylight looked very inviting in their current state. Soft towels were piled up on a shelf on the wall and fresh boxes of soap for guests were under the white sink. Thomas leant over the bath to turn the taps, enjoying the steam from the hot water on his hand.

Alex could feel Thomas' eyes follow him as he moved around the washroom. He stripped his clothes off again. He could feel the burning stare on him as he sank into the hot water and sighed. The warm water washed over him, soothing his aching, tired muscles, including some muscles that until that morning had not been exercised as frequently as Alex would have liked. The water rippled as Thomas slipped into the large tub with him directly across and Alex appreciated the view. Thomas let out a similar sigh and picked up the soap. The two men sat and bathed in silence, stealing glances whilst cleaning away the evidence of their earlier activities. Once done, they dressed and headed downstairs for breakfast.

Making light innocent chat and mulling over toast, tea, and porridge, Alex turned their conversation to their newly made deal.

"So. Turning your life around? Where do you want to start?" He lifted his teacup to smiling lips.

"After what happened between us this morning, that's the part you want to talk about?" Thomas raised an eyebrow.

Alex chuckled, "Well we can't exactly talk about our other _activities _in public now can we Mr Barrow? I'd rather not get arrested thank you very much."

Thomas sighed and twirled his spoon around in his porridge. He had to concede that Alex had a point.

"I'm going to start with Mr Bates. He's the one I've wronged the most. I need to start with him."

"Hmm, best place to start is a simple apology. Find time to sit with him alone and explain why you treated him the way you did, what your reasons were. An apology means nothing without showing that you understand why you were in the wrong. Perhaps a small gift wouldn't go amiss either. Something personal." Alex mused, running his finger along the edge of his teacup.

Thomas listened intently. Why he hadn't thought of something this simple before baffled him though it was maybe because he never felt the need to apologise to anyone. He had always found a way to justify his actions whether it was imagined vendettas or protecting himself. He now realised that his strike-first attitude had alienated him from people only trying to be friendly and made him easy prey for O'Brien's poison. He knew he couldn't blame her for everything, he was no saint himself but she seemed to make him worse; she encouraged the worst in him.

"Something personal... I'll have a think about it."

"The best gifts always have some thought behind them."

* * *

The day had passed largely without incident as Mrs Hughes finally put her feet up in her parlour. It had been a rather light day today, what with Lord Atholl stuck in Thirsk with Mr Barrow. She thought of the Earl's recent arrival and what his presence could mean for the household. Mr Carson had told her that Thomas had arrived back late the night before from Atholl's room but she didn't share his concern about Thomas' proximity to the young gentleman. She had said so herself only that evening:

_Mr Carson chapped on the door to Mrs Hughes parlour._

_"May I come in Mrs Hughes?" He asked._

_"Certainly! I was going to pour myself a sherry, could I tempt you with a glass?"_

_"Go on, Alfred has been driving me spare. He only went and left the silverware in the pantry without putting it in order..."_

_"It's hardly the end of the world. He's a young lad, he's got a lot on his mind."_

_"Oh yes, flirting with the kitchen maids is far more important than the fine running of this noble house." He said sarcastically. "And while I'm on the subject of distractions, should Thomas really be taking care of Lord Atholl? I don't feel entirely comfortable with the situation."_

_"Honestly Mr Carson," she chastised him softly, "Thomas is a homosexual, not a... a sex fiend."_

_Mr Carson opened his mouth to protest at her language but she held her hand up to silence him and continued:_

_"And yes, he was drawn to James but I think with the heartache he experienced there, he's well and truly learnt his lesson, don't you?"_

_"I suppose..." He said, finishing his glass of sherry. "Goodnight Mrs Hughes."_

_"Goodnight Mr Carson."_

However, even after she had said so after Mr Carson left, her mind began to wander. It wasn't as if Atholl wasn't handsome, far from it. That boy had really grown up fine but Thomas was a smart lad and was definitely (and understandably) wary of being hurt again. But, there was that niggling feeling in the back of her mind as she though back to a couple of days ago when the under-butler first set eyes on the Earl. There certainly a strange look in Thomas' eyes. Attraction? Lust even? She wasn't sure but she was worried for him all the same.

There was another chap on the door and Mrs Patmore popped her head into the room.

"You're not busy are you, Mrs Hughes?"

"I'm most certainly not, come on in!"

Mrs Patmore shut the door behind her and sat down in a plush armchair by the stove.

"What a day. Heard anything from Thomas?"

"Yes, he called earlier. They're still stuck in Thirsk, poor souls. Bates has packed some more clothes for Lord Atholl and I've packed some things for Thomas. The stable master's going to take a horse over there if he can. He said he was planning on making the trip anyway." Said Mrs Hughes

"Well that's good! At least Lord Atholl's not on his own. Bet you Thomas is made up though!" Mrs Patmore laughed.

"You think so?"

"Definitely! Have you _seen_ that man? Ooh, I wouldn't mind valeting him if I could get my hands on him. Pity he plays for the other team..."

"Beryl!" Mrs Hughes gave a shocked laugh. "Mind yourself!" She looked at the door as if expecting someone to barge in, "What makes you say that?" She asked in a conspiratory whisper.

Mrs Patmore laughed again.

"Elsie dear, I can spot 'em a mile away. He's queer is that young Earl, mark my words! I saw that look in his eyes when he saw Thomas. Saw them when I were at the post office. Looked like he wanted to ravage our little under-butler he did!"

"Nonsense! We hardly know the man and it's not as if Thomas isn't handsome. There's nothing wrong in appreciating a handsome man's appearance." Mrs Hughes scoffed.

"Suit yourself! Wouldn't be surprised if they're enjoying having time all to themselves."

Mrs Hughes burst out laughing. "Now that's enough of that! Thomas won't thank us for spreading rumours. What do you suppose they're up to? Can't be much to do sitting in a pub..."

"Having a bit of fun I'd imagine." Mrs Patmore said airily, a knowing grin on her face.

* * *

Thomas's head tipped back into the pillows as he panted roughly, a lock of black hair sticking to his forehead. Alex's hand was teasingly slow on his cock, stroking him rhythmically. The Earl was sitting up on his knees, naked between Thomas' thighs. He didn't think he would ever get tired of looking at Alex. Taking in his toned muscles glistening under a sheen of sweat and his rosy hard cock, the handsome Scotsman was (in Thomas's mind) the picture of perfection as he searched for the sweet spots that would make Thomas groan. Thomas bucked up into Alex's soft hand, a hand that had never done a days' hard labour in its life. All sensible thought had flown from Thomas' mind when Alex had shoved his hand down the front of his trousers the moment after arriving back to their room from dinner. The Earl had more or less thrown Thomas on to their bed, stripping him and himself of clothing wildly before resuming his fondling of Thomas' manhood. Thomas had been pleasantly surprised by Alex's eagerness (though in all fairness, he _had_ teased him a little throughout dinner... Or a lot) and moaned loudly to encourage him. If Alex was so keen to explore his sexuality like this, then Thomas was going to damn well help him. It had been too long.

Alex ran his thumb in the wet slit experimentally earning a cry of pleasure. Thomas was fast nearing his climax and knowing he didn't have much longer, he thrust his hips roughly, getting faster and more needy before the sweet friction made him arch his back and finish over Alex's hand. He thrust weakly a couple of times while he rode out the waves of pleasure, flopping back on to the mattress as he gave a breathless laugh. He looked at Alex who was looking hungrily at him spread on the bed before gripping himself with his now wet hand to bring himself off. Thomas smiled at the look of desperation on the Earl's face and moved Alex's hand away from his cock.

Alex gave a quiet whimper at the lost touch but let out a long shaky groan as Thomas lowered his head between his legs and licked a wet stripe up the underside of his cock. Alex yelled as he put the tip in mouth and gave a hard suck, swirling his tongue around it. Thomas slowly took it deeper and deeper as he licked and sucked, making sure to emphasise the obscene noises for Alex's sake. He heard a moan above him and felt fingers entangle in his hair as he swallowed around Alex, feeling them grip tightly and push his face closer. Not that Thomas minded one bit. The heady scent of Alex's mingled sweat and musk was the most exciting scent he'd ever encountered.

Alex thrust into his mouth and Thomas gagged slightly around his girth but quickly adjusted to accommodate him and sucked roughly, reaching under Alex with his hand to cup and gently squeeze him. With a loud groan, Alex released, Thomas coughing a little as he tried to swallow it all. He released Alex, placing a kiss on his chest on his way back up. Alex's face was blissful: he was gasping, his cheeks stained a dark pink. He slowly opened his eyes and gazed awestruck at Thomas.

"You have got to teach me how you did that..." He panted with a grin.

Thomas kissed him tenderly and laughed.

* * *

Alex lay back in the bed with Thomas' head resting on his chest. He thought back to the events of this evening and what he had just shared with the man in his arms. He thought of the act Thomas had committed on him and how they were unlike anything he'd ever experienced. The heat, the soft tongue, and the sight of Thomas' head between his thighs was unbearable. Alex threaded his fingers in silken black locks, revelling in the pleasure pooling below his navel. He had thrusted upwards into Thomas' wet mouth and felt a rush of concern as he heard a small choking noise. When he looked down however, Thomas' seemed to have been alright and continued to suck him even harder than before. Alex couldn't hold it any longer. He didn't have time to warn Thomas before he came with a surge of confused and exhilarated emotions. He had closed his eyes and savoured the tranquil high. When he had slowly come down, he opened his eyes and looked at Thomas:

"You have got to teach me how you did that..." He panted, grinning stupidly.

Thomas didn't reply. He just laughed and kissed him.


	7. Homecomings and Sincere Promises

**Hi guys! Here we are, the latest chapter. No sex this time but I hope you enjoy it all the same! **

**There's going to be a slight time-skip in the next chapter, only a month or so. just to speed things up a bit.**

* * *

The next day, a servant from Downton had managed to bring them spare necessities for which the two men were immensely thankful. After a few days stuck in The Flying Duck later, mainly sleeping, eating and exploring each other, Thomas and Alex were finally told by the landlord that, since the locals had spent the past few days clearing the main roads to free all the stuck visitors, they should be able to get home safely. He apologised for the inconvenience of having to share a double room, both men telling him _'Nonsense! It couldn't be helped.'_ Secretly they were grateful for the circumstances that lead them to sharing a bed. For Thomas, it finally meant getting the satisfaction that had been denied to him for a good few years and for Alex, it was discovering the truth about himself and discovering said truth while in the company of an understanding... what should he call him? Friend? That didn't seem appropriate. Servant? No, that word left a foul taste and for some reason he couldn't associate the words 'Thomas' and 'servant' together. The acts he and Thomas had committed during their short forced stay in Thirsk, though they felt right and exciting, could have gotten them arrested several times over if they hadn't been careful and quiet about it.

As they made their way down the icy street, they stole glances at each other. Thomas was worried about what would happen next. Now that they were returning to the 'real world' of Downton, what was going to happen to their little arrangement? How were they going to continue? Alex had made it clear over the past few days that he wanted Thomas to guide him through his homosexuality but that was going to be a problem when they got back. Thomas couldn't very well sleep in Alex's room, that would be bound to set alarm bells ringing (though in the short time he had spent here, he had grown used to sharing a bed with another warm body). Perhaps they would have to make do with pleasuring each other by hand and mouth during dressing time. That would be a pity. There was so more to learn than that.

The drive back was pleasant. Both sat enjoying the chill breeze as they drove along the road, taking care not to go to fast and keep an eye for oncoming traffic. Thomas was in a deep train of thought when Alex rubbed his hand leisurely high up along his inner thigh. Thomas gave a little groan in his pleasure and turned to the Earl. To keep his eyes on the road and pay attention to Thomas, Alex glanced back and forth between the two.

"Are you alright Thomas? You seem lost in thought. You make a habit of doing that, you know."

"Just wondering how our 'arrangement' is going to work when we get back. It'll be difficult if you still want to learn?" Thomas tested warily.

"Of course I do. Very much so. And I don't see any reason why our lessons can't continue. We'll just have to... schedule them carefully."

"Are you sure? If we get caught, I'll be out of a job with no reference. You do realise that right?"

"I do. And there shouldn't be anything suspicious about you being in my room. You are my valet after all."

He gripped Thomas' thigh rubbing it tenderly, trying to reassure both himself and the young servant. Thomas clasped his hand over the one on his leg. Alex kept his hand there for most of the rest of the drive back to Downton. After a good couple of hours, the familiar crunch of gravel sounded beneath their wheels and Alex pulled into the house's garage. The garage was empty as they exited the car and Thomas took the opportunity to be bold, reaching up to cradle the Earl's cheek, brushing his thumb over cheek.

"I'd best get this stuff to the laundry room. I'll see you before dinner?" Thomas knew he would, being a valet and all, but he couldn't help his words from sounding like a query.

Checking quickly for any passersby, Alex leant forward to capture Thomas' lips. He gently touched Thomas' bottom lip with the tip of his tongue, showing that he wanted to deepen the kiss. Thomas obliged and let Alex in. They stood for a few moments, oblivious to all around them until the steadily growing sound of crunching gravel broke them apart and they hurriedly straightened their appearances.

"Ah, you're back your Lordship. I'm really sorry about the car." Mr Dobson the chauffeur had obviously been informed of their arrival.

"It's only Lord Grantham said you wanted to see more of the county m'lord. I thought the open-top would've been good for sight-seeing. Didn't realise it was going to snow y'see"

"That's quite alright Dobson. We enjoyed our trip regardless."

* * *

As Thomas took their worn clothes to the laundry room, he was caught by Mrs Hughes who had apparently been looking for him since he arrived back. Noting his little absent smile and far-away expression, she wondered whether Mrs Patmore might have been right about Thomas' attraction to Lord Atholl. He had spent almost a week alone with the Earl and it seemed his mood had perked up considerably from before. But perhaps she was getting ahead of herself. Mr Carson had said Thomas had spent ages talking to Lord Atholl on his first night here, maybe they just got along? Well the only way she was going to know was if she asked._ 'You don't ask, you don't get'_ as her mother used to say.

"Good to see you back Mr Barrow! You seem in good spirits, what brought this on?"

Thomas' eyes widened a little at the question and his smile faltered.

"Just enjoyed having some time off is all. Even if I was stuck in a pub. Why?" He said warily.

"No real reason. You just seemed to be smiling. I haven't seen you do that in a while, it makes a nice change." She said, giving him a small smile of her own.

After putting the clothes in the appropriate baskets, Thomas left. Mrs Hughes watched after him, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Thomas' reply seemed reasonable enough; it was always nice to get an unexpected break. However, the guarded look on his face suggested that she was prying in a place he didn't want her to go. Mrs Hughes felt her heart ache. She was becoming more and more convinced that Mrs Patmore was right. Thomas' reaction to her question was suspect. She knew that this would all end in tears for Thomas. She thought to herself:

_'Lord, I know you may not approve of Thomas' inclinations but could you at least spare him this? Hasn't he had enough heartbreak already?'_

She watched him closely during dinner and noted the tiny smile that would play about his lips whenever Lord Atholl was mentioned. This wasn't good.

Sitting in her room after most had gone to bed, Mrs Hughes sighed and poured herself a sherry. Why she was worrying so much about a man who, until after the war, she'd have happily seen out the door was beyond her but after the unfortunate incident with James, she had seen Thomas for what he was: an emotionally damaged, broken young boy who has had to hide himself from the world for something he couldn't control. Seeing him sobbing in the rain had made her see a new side to the man.

She sighed. A chap on the door roused her and she opened the door.

"Evening Elsie! You look down in the dumps, what's wrong?"

"I think you're right Beryl. I think Thomas might have feelings for Lord Atholl. He came back from Thirsk, daydreaming and smiling to himself. He's going to get his heart broken again, I know it." She sighed and ran a hand over her forehead.

"He's a grown man. You can't protect him forever. He can make his own choices, his own mistakes." Mrs Patmore said softly.

"I know that but I can't help it. You didn't see him that night. That proud young man reduced to curling up in a ball and crying his eyes out, thanks to that little scallywag..."

"Take it you mean James? Don't particularly like that lad me'self. He's as vain as Thomas was but with none of the charm. I don't think you should worry about Thomas, Elsie. The way Lord Atholl looks at 'im says that the feeling's mutual. And if he's getting a wee bit o' happiness, who're we to interfere."

"You're right. I know you're right but that doesn't stop me worrying. An Earl and a servant? If they ever got together... I don't think either of them would survive the scandal."

"Maybe, maybe not. But that boy's been so lonely for so long. I don't care who it is as long he's got someone who cares about 'im."

Mrs Hughes thought.

"Yes. Yes, I suppose so. He needs someone to love and be loved in return. The world owes him that after all he's been through."

* * *

Thomas knocked lightly on Alex's door before dinner and gently opening the door, was greeted with a large smile.

"Hello Thomas, how are you this evening?" In his undershirt, Alex stood picking out a set of cufflinks for this evening. Looking around the room, Thomas noted that there was a light grey suit jacket and white shirt laid out on the bed. Alex had already started without him, pressed trousers sitting nicely on his lean frame.

"I'm fine Alex. I see you've picked out a suit for the evening. Do you really need me at all?" Thomas quirked an eyebrow at the Earl, picking up the crisp white shirt and fixing the collar.

Walking over and behind Thomas, Alex placed his hands on Thomas' waist and placed slow, open kisses on his neck. The under-butler hummed his approval, tilting his neck to the side.

"Of course I do, I just don't see why we should waste what limited time we have before dinner, fussing over cufflinks and clothes." He murmured between kisses.

Releasing Thomas' neck, Alex removed his undershirt to allow Thomas to begin dressing him.

"Have you put any more thought into what you are going to get for Mr Bates?" Alex asked while Thomas did up his shirt buttons.

"I have. I was thinking about a pocket-watch. I know about clocks, my father was a clockmaker. I'm sure I'd able to pick out a good quality one."

"Very nice! I'm sure he would appreciate that. He seems like a practical sort." Alex nodded, smiling. "I was planning a trip to London for a week or so a few weeks from now, why don't you accompany me? I'm certain we could find something suitable."

"If you wouldn't mind. You were stuck alone with me for almost week, not sick of me yet?"Thomas grinned, sorting the sleeves and shoulders on the shirt.

"In case you hadn't noticed Mr Barrow, I rather enjoy spending time alone with you." Alex smiled, running a thumb across Thomas' high cheekbone. "If I'm not mistaken, there's still a lot more for you to teach me isn't there? I'd like to learn. And not just sexually, if this is who I am, and I don't doubt that it is, who better to learn from than someone who understands my fears and concerns." He added quietly, the smile had softened; very much like the one he had given after their first night together.

Thomas reached up and pulled Alex's hand gently from his face, holding it in his own.

"I'll admit, it's not an easy life despite how comfortable I seem in it. I'm not ashamed of who and what I am. Why should I be? But there's always the threat of someone finding out. I was lucky that the senior staff here were accepting of my situation but I can't help wondering what would've happened if they weren't."

He continued rubbing his thumb in small circles on the back of Alex's hand.

"If I can, I'll try my best to make it easier for you: even if it's just needing someone to talk to or needing... release, I'm here. I wish I had someone years ago to help me through it and I want to be able to do that for you."

Alex leant forward to capture Thomas' lips like he had that morning. However, this kiss was chaste and passionate; conveying all of the emotion Alex was feeling towards Thomas. He had never felt so grateful to have met someone in his life and if Thomas was offering his companionship and experience to help him in this journey, then he was going to accept it and grab it with both hands. In the short time they had known each other, Thomas had become his saviour and his rock, lifting him from confusion and wandering blind around himself and Alex knew it.


	8. Complications and Reconciliations

**Hi guys, I don't think I've said thanks to those who put this on their alerts! Cheers! **

**Hope you guys enjoy this!**

* * *

It had been just over a month since their return from Thirsk and Thomas and Alex had taken every opportunity afforded to them to meet alone together. Although these times were few and far between, they had taken to making the most of them. Most of the time they merely talked, lounging on Alex's bed, Thomas's hand tangled in Alex's hair. Other times, they would lock the door and set about pleasuring one another, revelling in the sensations they could arouse. Sometimes, Thomas would even take a risk and sneak out while everyone was asleep for a quick fumble between Alex's sheets, making sure to be back before four, before Ivy came round to light the fires in the bedrooms. Alex had become a lot more daring in their escapades as his confidence grew: touches became bold, his first attempt at pleasuring Thomas by mouth, with Thomas' guidance, was deemed a success by both. Alex would often ask questions of Thomas, mainly concerning how Thomas had discovered his sexuality (a quick whirlwind romance as a sixteen year old with one of his father's shop assistants named George. _'It didn't end well. My dad found out and George was sacked, I never saw him again. Don't think my dad was too surprised to be honest.'_)

However, recently Thomas had become slightly distant and this worried Alex who had taken to thinking about Thomas during the times they weren't together. He thought this odd as he thought they were getting along fine and their dalliances had continued as though there was nothing wrong. Why should the young under-butler occupy his thoughts so frequently? It had only been a little over a month and although they had shared a lot together, they were still strangers in a sense. _'You can't know everything about a person in such a short space of time'_ he tried to tell himself, though for some inexplicable reason, Alex felt he needed Thomas. He wasn't entirely sure what for: Company? Support? Sex? But he knew there was something there. In his alone time, he had tried imagining attractive men he'd seen in pubs and clubs in the city as he 'sorted himself out' but his visions always came back to Thomas. Blond, dark, short, tall, the dreamed-up men in his imagination always morphed into Thomas regardless. The dark hair, fair skin, sharp features always drew him back. Alex ran a hand through his short blond hair as he sat on a bench under a large tree in the house grounds. He was over-thinking this.

_'Thomas is just my type, nothing more. Right?'_ He thought but a little niggling voice in the back of his mind said _'No. You care about him. You know you do.'_ He found he couldn't find a good counter-argument; it's difficult to refute cold, hard truths.

Alex sighed. Alright, so he cared. What was he going to do about it? You can't just switch off feelings no matter how hard you try. A loud barking broke him away as Isis came bounding up to him, tongue lolling and tail wagging. How that dog had so much energy for her age was beyond him. He had a sneaking suspicion that the Countess had secretly replaced the labrador at some point.

"Hello you!" He said as he scratched her behind the ears and patted her side. She barked again, suddenly turning and running back the way she came. Walking behind her was Lord Grantham and the Dowager Countess.

"Afternoon Alex!" Lord Grantham called.

"Hello Uncle Robert, Lady Countess. She seems a bundle of energy, doesn't she? Isis, I mean" He pointed at the dog.

"Well I certainly hoped you weren't referring to me." Lady Violet bristled, though a hint of a smile could be seen around her eyes.

"Mother is always full of energy, I don't know how she does it. But yes, Isis has never been in better health. You wouldn't know she was as old as she was by looking at her. What are you doing out here?"

"Just enjoying the sun. It's a little chilly but pleasant nonetheless." Alex replied.

Wanting attention, Isis barked.

"I think she'd rather have 'less talking, more walking'." He laughed.

"I quite agree. You're going to London tomorrow, aren't you?"

Alex nodded.

"Good, good! I was worried you'd get bored stuck here. Come mother, let's be off before Isis drags us whether we like it or not. We'll see you at luncheon Alex. Unless you would like to join us?" Lord Grantham asked.

"No. I'm quite happy sitting here."

Lord Grantham tipped his hat to Alex and continued on his way, chatting to Lady Violet happily of Mary's pregnancy announcement.

Alex found himself wondering what Thomas was doing. He wondered whether he was happy and for some reason, he found that the answer was extremely important to him. He couldn't sit there forever moping. If he wanted to know, he'd have to ask.

* * *

As Thomas packed the suitcases for Lord Atholl's trip to London, he thought of the week to come. A few weeks ago, Thomas would have relished the idea of spending another week alone in a hotel room with Alex but now, now he wasn't so sure. Not that he hadn't enjoyed relaxing with the Earl and savouring their little trysts, but Thomas had found himself considering their relationship a little too much. It was driving him to distraction and that worried him. He couldn't afford any distractions, even ones as entertaining as the Earl. Thomas had quietly promised himself that he wouldn't get too attached to Alex, telling himself that it would not and could not work out between them. Not to mention Alex wouldn't be here much longer. Mrs Hughes said he'd only be here a couple of months. Another problem was that he never could keep self-made promises. Breaking his last one ended up with him in his current predicament but, that said, Alex was everything he'd been looking for in a lover. He was kind, funny, good-looking, intelligent; all the things that pulled him in most. Thomas had made the mistake of thinking the Duke of Crowborough kind once and that had been one of the worst mistakes in his life, right up there with joining the Medical Corps, and kissing Jimmy. Was he making another one with Alex?

Thomas shut the suitcase he had finished packing a bit more roughly than he should have as he berated himself for getting attached to the man. He didn't need this. Especially considering he that didn't know how Alex felt about him. Was he just a convenience? A way for the Earl to explore sex with another man without worrying about the consequences? Was he being used? The thought hurt. He ran a hand through his hair, immediately regretting it as it dishevelled the neat parting he had spent his years in service perfecting. He lifted the packed case and put it in the small pile beside the door, ready to go downstairs. As he lifted the next case, there was a knock at the door and Alfred popped his head in.

"Need some help Mr Barrow?" He asked politely.

"If you don't mind Alfred. Those ones by the door are ready to go down to the car." He pointed at the pile. "I've just got this one to do."

"Right you are Mr Barrow." Alfred said but he lingered a little, shuffling his feet. Noticing this, Thomas sighed.

"What's wrong? If it's about last year, don't worry. I'm not going to suddenly pounce on you." He said, a bit of his exasperation leaking through.

"I... I never did say sorry did I? For calling the police, I mean. It's just..."

"I get it. I do." Thomas interrupted. "It's against what you believe in but I don't choose to be this way. Even if I tried 'being normal', it wouldn't be fair on the poor girl I ended up with. Either way I'd be miserable. I'd rather be miserable and be me than be miserable and live a lie. That make sense?"

Alfred was quiet for a few moments then slowly nodded. He kept his head down as he mumbled:

"Yeah. It does. So... Are we good or...?"

Thomas gave a small smile.

"Yeah, we're good. Did you know, on your first day here your aunt asked me to train you to be a valet?"

Alfred's head shot up, confused.

"No! What'd she go and do that for? I don't even really want to be a footman let alone a valet!"

"You what?" Thomas asked, mouth agape.

"No, I want to be a chef. But I needed a job and me aunt said she could get me one."

Thomas laughed.

"Bloody hell Alfred! I didn't know that! That's brilliant but there are schools you could have gone to. Why didn't you go to one of those?"

Alfred smiled.

"I were saving up for it before the war and when I was working at the hotel. When they cut back, I needed a job quick like."

"Well good luck to you! Bloody hell, I wasn't expecting that. You're full of surprises you are!"

Alfred grinned.

* * *

The car rumbled along the road on the way to the train station as Thomas and Alex sat in the back. There was an awkward silence between the two, each thinking of the days' revelations. Alex glanced sideways at Thomas as the under-butler gazed out the window. Was this just sex? There was no denying that he definitely cared for Thomas, more than he ought to. He reached out a little to put a hand on Thomas' knee but thought better of it when he remembered that they were being chauffeur driven. He pulled his hand back a little to fiddle with the edge of his coat. The journey was rather excruciating considering Thomas didn't seem inclined to talk to him. The normally short journey felt much longer when they arrived at the station. Alex felt relieved that he had booked a private carriage: it would give them time and privacy to talk.

As the porters loaded their cases into the cargo, Thomas sorted out their tickets. He was surprised when the ticket man handed him not a first class and third class ticket like he expected but two first class tickets. He asked the man to check again only to be told that no, there was no mistake. Lord Atholl had booked two tickets for first class: one for himself and one for his valet as he was travelling alone and would enjoy company. Nodding his thanks, Thomas took the tickets and boarded the train. Alex was waiting for him. He held up the tickets with a questioning look.

"I didn't see the point in us travelling separately. Besides, I wanted to talk to you." Alex replied.

He pointed at the seat opposite him and Thomas sat down, feeling very much like a boy in trouble if the feeling of dread in his stomach was anything to go by.

"Don't look so worried Thomas! You look as if I'm about to walk you to the gallows. It's not a bad thing I promise you!"

Thomas relaxed a little but the knotting feeling in his stomach hadn't eased much.

"I only wanted to talk to you about our little errand. I know a few good jewellers and watchmakers I think we should have a look at. That's if they're still there of course. It's been a while since I was last in London."

Thomas nodded.

"Might be a bit out of my price-range though."

"Not necessarily. Hopefully we can arrange a good deal. Never hurts to have a look at least."

"I suppose it doesn't." Thomas agreed.

"Good. Now that the small talk's out of the way, we can talk about what's been bothering you recently."

Thomas schooled his face. This wasn't a conversation he wanted to have.

"I'm not sure what you mean."

Alex frowned.

"Don't play coy with me Thomas. You've been distant over the past week. You wanted me to help you get your life back on track and help fix your work relationships, how can I do that if you won't open up to me and tell me what's wrong? You've held up your end of the bargain..."

The unsaid _'let me help' _was evident to Thomas but this wasn't something Alex could help with. Alex was what was wrong. He was falling for Alex and that was the problem. And it scared him.


	9. Thank-You Presents and Late Nights

**As a Valentine's Day treat, this chapter is a little bit porny: Enjoy!**

**(Anyone else but me get a little embarrassed writing sex scenes? I do but I try anyway :()**

* * *

As the train rumbled along the tracks on its way to London, Alex sat across from Thomas, watching as the under-butler sat and wrung his hands. He couldn't figure out why Thomas refused to answer him. He wanted to help: in the past month and a half, Thomas had become very dear to him and the thought that something was bothering him concerned him greatly. If there was something he could do then he would gladly do it if it meant that Thomas would be back to his normally sassy self again. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Thomas' reluctance to come forth with details was infuriating but he decided not to force the issue. If he did, he may be saying goodbye to their relationship so fast it would make his head spin. Alex placed a hand on Thomas' knee as he had wanted to do earlier. He kneaded it tenderly as he spoke.

"Thomas, if you don't want to tell me what's wrong then that's alright. I've just been worried about you lately." A thought struck him. "Is it... Is it something I've done? Is that why you won't tell me? If it is, then I'm truly sorry..."

"No!" Thomas exclaimed. "It's nothing you've done. I've... just had a lot on my mind lately, is all."

Alex wasn't entirely convinced but he got up and sat beside Thomas on the long, plush seat. Removing his hand from his knee, Alex picked up Thomas' half-gloved hand, fiddling with the finely stitched seam. He knew the story behind this, he'd seen the scar and he knew he couldn't blame Thomas for what he did. The medics and stretcher-bearers had some of the worst of it during the war. The things they had to see and do there in No-Man's-Land would have been enough to drive anyone over the edge and having been there for two years already... Alex was surprised he hadn't done it sooner. It seemed that seeing young Mr Crawley in the trenches had reminded Thomas of home.

"You're a right fidget aren't you?" Thomas laughed. "You were playing with your coat earlier and you have this habit of fiddling with that piece of hair..." He tugged lightly on a stubborn lock of blond hair that always seemed to fall over Alex's forehead.

"It doesn't seem to matter what I do with it: slick it back, sweep it aside, it always just sits like that. It annoys me to no end." Alex smiled, glad to see Thomas laughing.

The uncomfortable tension of the morning had dissipated slightly as they chatted animatedly, joked around and even rough-housed a little as the train sped towards their destination. The outskirts of London soon appeared, looking rather resplendent in the late morning sun. The trained pulled into Euston Station and after sending on the driver with their cases and a man to check them in at their hotel, Thomas and Alex hired a cab and went straight for the high class shopping areas of Oxford Street and Bond Street. Thomas had been through this area before while serving as Lord Grantham's valet but he had never been here for the express purpose of buying anything himself and relished the chance to look at all the expensive suits, bright dresses, watches and jewellery that would cost his whole year's wages if not more, up-class cafés and enormous department stores of Selfridges. He loved the fact that this time, this time, he'd be able to wander into any one of those stores instead of just passing by.

Alex threw an arm around his companion's shoulders and said:

"Where to first? There's a very reputable clock-makers around that corner or we could try our hand in Selfridges?"

Thomas thought for a moment.

"Selfridges. To give me a good idea of what I'm looking for. Then if I see something I like, I can ask in a proper clock-makers."

"Sounds good. There's something I want to pick up there anyway. 'Kill to birds with one stone' as the saying goes."

They turned on their heel, crossed the street and into the large building. Inside was a veritable treasure trove of goods in every colour make and description. Locating the jewellery department, Thomas spent a good half hour perusing the pocket watches, listening to the clockwork and admiring the design. These were mass-produced pieces but their quality was evident: obviously a shop like this would have an expert supplier somewhere. Sometime while Thomas was browsing, Alex had wandered off to buy whatever he was looking for though Thomas barely noticed, absorbed as he was.

After picking out a style he liked (a silver, etched hunters watch, _'It's a little too flashy though, too much detail.'_), Thomas and Alex travelled through several specialist watchmakers, Alex trying to pay attention as Thomas and the clock-makers discussed quality and technique. Clearly, his father's profession was one he had considered at some point. It was in a small, family run place that Thomas found what he was looking for: the small silver, simply etched around the edge with a little bit of the inner clockwork visible through a little window on the front. Despite his limited knowledge of watches, Alex had to agree that it was a fine piece. Mr Bates was sure to appreciate it.

They spent the rest of the afternoon exploring the area, Alex taking Thomas around the fancy clothes shops and browsing bookstores. Around seven, they booked into a restaurant. They had debated for a while as to what kind of food they would have, eventually settling on Italian and spent a nice few hours alone together in a quiet corner enjoying each others company. Alex always preferred eating with Thomas: there was no awkwardness or uncomfortable silences as there was while dining with the Crawleys. As much as they had invited him to stay, he still felt like an outsider. Equal but not quite part of the group. With Thomas, he felt at ease, as though with a close friend he'd known for years. Only, he wasn't just a friend anymore. Alex's feelings had gone beyond platonic (if they ever had been before). He had admitted it to himself that morning after thinking about it long into the night.

* * *

Night fell quickly in these winter nights and in the warm orange glow of the street lamps, the icy air could be seen descending as Thomas and Alex walked back to their hotel from the restaurant. Wrapping their heavy coats around them , they walked closer together than they would normally have done. Once they reached the hotel, they had a couple of drams of whisky and headed up to bed. Their bedrooms were separate but both knew that that was only for show; sleeping separately was never on the agenda for either of them. The two men sharing a bedroom in Thirsk was merely a case of 'needs must' so no-one thought anything of it but now, in one of the top hotels in London, appearances needed to be kept up. An Earl couldn't be seen sleeping in the same room as his valet, that would definitely set tongues wagging. Their relationship was dangerous enough without drawing unwanted attention to it.

Whilst he was packing the suitcases that morning, Thomas had placed some of his own night clothes into one of them on request from Alex. (_'Means you don't need to go running back to your room so soon this evening'_ Alex had smiled, placing his hands on Thomas' hips before bed the previous night). After undressing the Earl, Thomas placed a sensuous kiss on his lips before going to get ready for bed himself. As he was half undressed, a pair of arms came around his waist, he felt a light peppering of kisses on his shoulders and Alex pulled Thomas onto the bed, rolling them over to pin Thomas down. Slipping off Thomas's shorts, Alex trailed open-mouthed, wet kisses down his chest, stopping briefly on the under-butler's sensitive spot beneath his navel. He took Thomas in hand and for a few moments, lightly stroking him, bringing him to full arousal. He looked up at the man lying prone on the bed; a small smile playing upon his red lips swollen from where he'd been biting them and neat black hair mussed: Thomas really was beautiful.

Alex stopped teasing him and suddenly, trailing his tongue down the shaft, Alex took Thomas into his mouth and sucked roughly. The sight of Thomas' flushed face spurred Alex on as he sucked harder, swirling his tongue around the leaking tip. He moaned happily at the desperate gasps and groans from his lover's lips and decided that now was the time to try out something he'd been meaning to experiment with. Pulling away from Thomas' cock with a deliberately slow lick, he stood up and headed to his coat that was thrown across one of the armchairs. Thomas' whimpered softly as he lay naked and unsatisfied on the bed watching him. He pulled out the small bottle of oil he had purchased that day when Thomas wasn't looking from his coat pocket. Uncomfortably hard himself, Alex slipped off his shorts and returned to the bed, swatting Thomas' hand away as the under-butler reached down to try and relieve himself. He placed himself between Thomas' thighs, and leant over him, running a hand across his chest and into the light dusting of dark hair there.

"Patience, I'm not done yet." He said softly in Thomas' ear then placed a small kiss on his cheek.

He slid back down again and retook Thomas in to his mouth, sucking lightly on the tip as he coated his fingers in the oil. He gently stroked Thomas' entrance with a well-slicked finger, earning him a sharp gasp as a reward. He knew in theory how this was supposed to go but decided to take his time, lest he hurt Thomas in some way. After spending a few minutes stroking and teasing, he pushed in slowly, meeting some resistance and a slightly pained grunt from his lover. He pulled back and let go of Thomas' cock.

"I'm sorry! Are you alright?"

"What did you stop for?!" Came the irritated growl of a reply.

"I was hurting you. I had to stop..." He started to say.

"It's alright, it's been a while for me that's all. Keep going." Thomas interrupted.

"Are you sure?" Alex asked tentatively. He hadn't gone this far with Thomas before but he found himself wanting to try it out. The under-butler had awkwardly tried to talk him through the logistics of homosexual intercourse though understandably it was a rather embarrassing topic. He had told him that quite a bit of preparation needs to be done before penetration but the preparation in and of itself could be a lot of fun if done right. Alex wasn't sure if he was ready to do the full deed yet but he believed this could be a good stepping stone. If he could master this, maybe he might be ready to satisfy Thomas completely. Thomas: there it was again. He could pick any man but his mind always chose Thomas and he found, to his amazement, that that didn't bother him one bit.

"Well? What're you waiting for?" A pleading voice came from above.

Grinning, Alex resumed his stroking, gently pushing his index finger into the tight channel. Thomas was impossibly hot and velvety as he slowly thrust his finger in and out. He felt Thomas begin to relax and his muscles become laxer and, deciding to be brave, he added another finger. Thomas moaned as he scissored the two digits, gently widening him up to add a third. Alex touched something small inside Thomas who suddenly cried out, arching off the bed and panting wildly. Thrilled by his discovery, Alex stroked this spot repeatedly as he thrust his fingers. The noises Thomas was making travelled straight to his cock and as he continued to caress Thomas, Alex leant over and lining his cock up with Thomas', grasped the both of them in his other hand, stroking them roughly in time to his thrusts. Moments later, Thomas came, crying Alex's name as Alex released over Thomas. Collapsing on top of Thomas, he buried his face into the under-butler's neck, taking in the smell of soap and fresh sweat.

After a few minutes, Alex got up to wash his hands, bringing back a couple of damp towels to clean themselves. Once done, he gathered Thomas into his arms, pulling the bed-sheets over them and switching off the bedside lamp.

"I'm going to miss this." Said Thomas into the darkness.

"What do you mean, 'miss this'? Are we stopping?" Alex asked.

"No, you're leaving soon aren't you? Once the renovations are done?"

Alex went cold. He had forgotten about that. How had he managed that?

"Don't tell me you'd forgotten about your own house?"

Alex didn't reply. He pulled Thomas in closer. What was he going to do? He was leaving Downton Abbey in a few weeks (though oddly enough, he hadn't heard from Sir Walter in quite a while now). Perhaps he could request that Thomas come with him. Surely Lord Grantham didn't really need an under-butler, did he? But what if Thomas didn't want to leave his home and come with him? Thomas' distant behaviour lately didn't inspire much hope for that. He wished Thomas would tell him what was wrong, maybe he could fix it if he knew.

"Alex? You alright?" He could hear the concern in his voice and felt guilty.

"Get some sleep, Thomas." He said quietly. Easy for him to say but sleep would be difficult tonight.


	10. Important Guests and Secret Meetings

**Hey guys, me again! Assignments are done for now so I had a little time to write.**

**I'm not sure about this chapter. Hope you all like it though!**

**I've also tried to include Lord Atholl's and Sir Walter's accents in this chapter. Normally I don't but there's a reason for it in this chapter. There's a wee bit of swearing here too.**

* * *

The week flew in fast in London. Thomas had enjoyed the trip immensely, showing Alex around his favourite spots in the vast city; the excellent pubs and restaurants, the parks and gardens, and Alex even took him to some of the shows he had always wanted to see yet never had the time for. All in all, it was a week of pure indulgence for Thomas: a week of fine food, good music, and amazing sex. Thomas also got the chance to make use of his pay rise and kitted himself out with a finely tailored suit which was appreciated by Lord Atholl as he sat on the chair, waiting while the tailor measured Thomas up for the perfect fit. He was in good spirits again even though he knew his problem (his romantic feelings for Alex) was growing by the day. The train ride home that Friday was uneventful for the most part though Thomas had wondered if he'd inadvertently created a monster when Alex had gotten on his knees between his legs after locking their private carriage doors. Even the Duke hadn't been this insatiable during their summer together. Now that 'dalliance' as the Duke had put it, paled in comparison to his current arrangement even though they still hadn't progressed any further than oral sex and finger fucking.

As they stepped through the large front doors of Downton Abbey, Alex and Thomas were met by Lord Grantham and Mr Carson.

"Welcome back Alex! I hope your trip was productive?" Lord Grantham greeted the Earl.

"Most definitely Uncle. I thoroughly enjoyed myself." He glanced secretly at Thomas, meeting his eyes briefly with a smile.

"Oh, and a Sir Walter called for you when you were away. He sounded concerned, perhaps you should call him."

"Concerned? Well that doesn't sound good. I will call him right away." Alex frowned. Sir Walter hadn't been in touch lately but he had put that down to Walter just being busy. Was something wrong.

"Mr Barrow, would you please take Lord Atholl's cases to his room. I will send Alfred to help you." Came Mr Carson's low grumble.

"Yes, Mr Carson." Thomas nodded and turned to pick up some of the cases.

Alex watched absently as Thomas climbed the stairs to his room, his gaze perhaps lingering a little too long on his rear.

"Alex?" Lord Grantham asked, traces of concern littering his voice.

"My apologies, I drifted away there. Perhaps I should make that call now." Alex grinned.

"Of course. I do hope there's nothing wrong. Although it would be nice to have you around a little longer." He turned to speak to Carson but suddenly spun around again.

"Oh, and we're having the Duke of Pembrokeshire and his wife for dinner tomorrow. Just so you know."

"I haven't seen him for years. He doesn't like me very much. Oh well, can't please everyone I suppose."

Alex picked up the phone from the hallway table and asked to be put through to Blair Castle. The phone rang for quite a while before anyone picked up.

_"Hullo? This is Blair Castle. Sir Walter Ross speaking."_

"Sir Walter! Alex here. Uncle Robert told me you called. I'm very sorry, I was in London."

_"That's alright lad. A' wis jist calling tae say we've ran in tae a few problems up here. These eedjits we ca' builders have managed tae cut through yer water pipes. Completely flooded the cellars. It's gonnae take a while tae fix the damage. Might need tae re-lay the floors."_

"Please tell me you're joking? How did they manage that!? You said problems: what else has happened? It can't be worse than that, can it?" Alex ran a hand down his face and sighed.

_"I'm afraid it can. Turns out, some of the wiring they pit in when they installed all the electric lights ha' been pit in wrong. Could be dangerous if it's no fixed. Sorry Alex, but this is gonnae take a while."_

"Nothing ever goes the way it should does it? Don't worry, I'll head back up the day after tomorrow. Give myself some time to get ready."

_"Nonsense! Ah can handle this! You enjoy yerself and Ah'll call when we're almost ready."_

"Are you sure Walter?"

_"Of course A'm sure! Ah'll call later. Cheerio, m'boy!"_

Alex smiled, said, "Goodbye Walter.", and hung up the phone.

"Bad news I take it?" Asked Lord Grantham.

"A little. Looks like I might need to fire the builders and hire new ones. They've made a complete mess of the cellars. It's completely flooded apparently."

"Not to worry! Buildings can be repaired and as you know, you are most welcome here."

"Thank you Uncle Robert. What a mess!"

Alex excused himself from Lord Grantham climbed the stairs to his room to find Thomas and a red-haired footman carrying the last of his cases to his room.

"We're almost done m'lord. Just this last case to go." Said the footman.

"Good, good. Thank you. Mr Barrow, may I have a word when you're done?" He nodded at Thomas.

As Alfred set down the last case, he turned, nodded to Lord Atholl and left the two alone. Once Alfred was gone, Alex closed the door and walked over to Thomas. Placing his hands on Thomas' hips, Alex pulled him in for a kiss.

"Turns out I'll be staying longer than I'd planned." He smiled and pressed his forehead to Thomas'.

Thomas grinned. "Well that's good news! Do you know how long?"

"Not sure yet, the builders have managed to make a complete mess of things. Might be another month or so."

"So, more time together?" Thomas asked, leaning in for another kiss.

Alex captured his lips, "Hmm. Can't meet in the house tonight though. The Duke of Pembrokeshire's coming for dinner. Any suggestions?"

Thomas thought for a moment, "Well, there's one of the gamekeeper's huts in the woods behind the servant's quarters. I don't think it's used anymore. I might be the only one who remembers that it's there. Found it by accident a year or so ago."

"Sounds perfect. How do I get there?"

"There's a little path along behind the gamekeeper's cottage. Just keep following it until you see the hut."

Alex kissed Thomas deeply and sighed.

"Meet you there after dinner? About nine-ish?"

"I'll get it ready for us before then. I'll see you there." Said Thomas as he gently pulled away from Alex and left the room.

Alex smiled as he watched Thomas leave. Perhaps there was one benefit to having his house ruined...

* * *

Thomas made his way back down to the servant's quarters to see the chauffeur had left his cases by the back door. Picking them up, he made his way up to his room to unpack. Taking out the small package he brought back from London, Thomas wondered how to go about giving it to Mr Bates. He eventually decided on asking Mr Bates for a quiet word in Mr Carson's office and, steeling his nerve, he returned to the servant's hall to find Bates polishing one of Lord Grantham's pairs of dress shoes.

"Mr Bates, may I have a word?" He asked.

Bates looked up at the under-butler, if he was surprised he didn't show it.

"Of course. Mr Carson's office?"

Thomas nodded. He felt nervous. How exactly was he going to phrase this: 'I'm sorry for making your life hell these past few years'? That didn't sound sincere enough. As the two entered the office, Thomas shuffled his feet, suddenly struck with the urge to fidget.

"What's this about, Thomas?" Mr Bates asked.

"Well, you see... Um..."

"Thomas?" Bates' voice was concerned.

"I wanted to give you something." He reached into his pocket and brought out the small parcel and handed it to Bates.

"It's to say sorry, for everything. The way I've treated you over the years, it was wrong I know that now. Even so, you still went out of your way to help me last year. So, thank you and, I'm sorry."

Bates slowly unwrapped the parcel to the small box underneath. He lifted the lid to see the etched, silver pocket-watch on a chain. His eyes widened.

"Thomas, I can't accept this. It must have cost too much."

"It's alright. I think after ten years with me sniping at you, you deserve more."

Bates smiled and held his hand out.

"Apology accepted. Fresh start?"

Thomas looked up and took Bates' hand.

"Thank you Mr Bates. I know I don't deserve it but thank you for giving me another chance. I owe you."

* * *

The evening was passing incredibly painfully for Alex as the Crawleys and the Duke and Duchess of Pembrokeshire ate dinner together. They were eating early today as guests had not eaten since breakfast. It was taking all of Alex's self-restraint not to push his chair out and storm out of the room as the Duke unleashed snide comment after snide comment towards the young Earl. To the Duke, Alex had always been a disappointment and took endless delight in comparing him to his very accomplished and 'perfect' son Edmund. Every time his father would invite the Duke to dinner, Alex had to bite his tongue to stop himself from sniping back because, despite his own wealth and status, the Duke was still his superior.

'_Doesn't stop him being an absolute bell-end though.'_ He thought, though he imagined his father would have been appalled at his language (his mother would have laughed, he liked to think).

The dinner was drawing to a close as the footmen and Thomas served desert and the conversation inevitably took a turn towards the Duke's son.

"Did I tell you that Edmund has become one of the country's top barristers? He's making a name for himself in London. He intends to go into government next year." He smirked at Alex. "What did you do at Cambridge again Alex? Philosophy wasn't it? How's that working for you?"

Alex fixed a smile on his face, "Very well, your grace. It was most informative. It's given me new... perspectives on things. People, for example."

"Indeed. Edmund's wife Caroline is expecting. She's due September. Still not married Alex? That's a pity." The smugness, masked as simpering pity, in his voice made Alex's skin crawl but he thought briefly of his escapades between the sheets with Thomas and returned the Duke's smirk.

"No. And I have no plans to."

The Duke's smirk grew.

"What? Not at all? What a shame! That's such an awful loss." He said sweetly. To her credit, the Duchess placed a hand on her husband's arm and gave him a reproachful look. Alex held nothing against her: she never approved of her husband's cruel jibes and but Alex always had the impression she was slightly intimidated by the Duke: Elizabeth was always a shy retiring soul.

Alex's hand gripped the arm of his chair so hard that his knuckles went white and his palm ached as the footmen retrieved the empty plates. Soon the dinner party retired to the drawing room where he made his excuses to Lady Edith (as the look on her face displayed her empathy for him).

He almost ran up the stairs and slammed the door to his room. He always let the Duke get under his skin. Alex knew he shouldn't have: he never had an interest in politics or law. However, it was the Duke's manner, his smugness, and his insistence on comparing him to his know-it-all, smarmy son that really got to him. He never wanted to compete with anyone, academically or socially; it just wasn't in his nature, but this enforced rivalry made him so angry and upset him to no end when it was brought up.

He reached for the bottle of single malt whisky on his bedside table and almost ripped the lid off. After taking a large gulp, he took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down. It was no good, he couldn't stay in this house right now. Not while he was still here. He looked out of his windows at the trees beyond the drive. Where did Thomas say that hut was? The woods behind the trees? It was perfect; quiet, secluded, and most importantly, not Downton Abbey. He stood up, put on his fine coat, picked up the whisky bottle and made his way outside.

As the dinner party sat chatting in the drawing room, it was another hour before Thomas could go to Alex's room to see if he was alright. Finding the Earl's room empty, he remembered the promise they had made earlier that afternoon. It was half past eight so it was a bit earlier than they had agreed but he decided to check the hut in the woods anyway. He grabbed his coat from the servant's hall, excusing himself saying he was going for a walk and a smoke and left through the back door.

The walk to the hut took less than twenty minutes and pushing the door open slowly, Thomas spotted the Earl, dishevelled, curled in a ball in the blankets and pillows he'd put there this afternoon. Alex took another swig from the whisky bottle and hiccoughed.

"Alex?" He took a few steps forward and knelt in front of the man. Taking Alex's face in his hands Thomas tilted his face up. Alex looked up and Thomas could see that his eyes were red-rimmed, as if he'd been crying and been wiping them roughly. "Are you alright?"

"Thomas?" He croaked.

"What's the matter? If it's what that old bastard said at dinner, ignore him. What does he know?" Thomas said viciously, wiping Alex's cheeks with his thumbs.

"He's a'ways like that. He's known ma' family fer years. Every opportunity he gets, he twists the knife in. He likes tae compare me tae his smarmy, kiss-arse o' a son, constantly, ye see. Every time he sees me. I wis in his son's year at Cambridge. _'Oh, he's going into government', 'he's securely married with children on the way'_; As if I give a shit! I don't want to be anything like him or his son but that's no' what bothers me. No, he a'ways says my da' thought I wis a disappointment 'cause I didn't want things like that. He's a bastard! A fuckin' arsehole!"

He took another gulp from the bottle and panted.

Thomas sat down beside Alex and wrapped his arms around him. The Earl was already quite far gone, he hadn't eaten much during dinner and he was drinking that whisky far too fast. It seemed the drunker Alex got, the stronger his accent became which made Thomas wonder if he was deliberately putting a rein on it normally. He would quite like this change under different circumstances.

"I don't think your dad was disappointed in you. From everything you've told me about him, it sounds he'd rather you were happy." He threaded his fingers into Alex's dark blond hair as the Earl buried into his neck.

"Ye think?" His voice was small, obviously despite his usually cheerful demeanour, Alex was easily hurt. He hadn't had the opportunity to build up an armour shell like Thomas had. Thomas held him closer.

"Yeah, I do." He said as Alex hiccoughed again.

"'ank you..." Alex murmured and to Thomas surprise began to chuckle softly.

"What're you laughing for?" He asked.

"This was supposed tae be a night o' fun fer us in here and here's us: me, completely pissed and you having tae comfort me. Sorry Thomas."

Thomas laughed, "s'alright."

Alex nuzzled sleepily into Thomas' shoulder as he began to slump down in his arms.

"Love you, ye know..."

Thomas froze and his eyes widened. Did Alex just say what he thought he said?

"Alex?"

But Alex was fast asleep, resting on Thomas' chest.


	11. Mornings After and Unscrupulous Enemies

**Hey! Sorry for the wait! I've been really busy lately and hit a bit of a block but don't worry, I haven't forgotten about this story!**

**Thanks for the reviews and favourites by the way! It's nice to know you seem to like this, (makes it worthwhile!)**

**On with the chapter!**

* * *

"Where were you off to last night Thomas?" A snide voice came across the table.

"That's really none of your concern now is it, Miss O'Brien? And it's Mr Barrow to you."

Miss O'Brien pursed her lips and glared at him. He had never forgiven her for what she did last year and he doubted he ever could. He had told her his secret in strictest confidence and had expected the same level of respect for it as her own secret regarding Lady Cora. Thomas had kept her secret: he didn't tell Mr Bates what he meant by 'her ladyship's soap' but knew that she would know what he meant and that was enough. Although why he was affording her this mercy was a mystery to him. She would quite happily have seen him starve on the streets (or end up going the way of Ethel. He was pretty enough, there were some out there who would pay for that sort of thing). Perhaps Mrs Hughes' and Alex's influence was rubbing off on him.

Alex. Now there was a problem. Last night in his upset, drunken stupor, the Earl had told Thomas that he loved him. Was that just drunken ramblings to a friend? Was it love in the same way you'd love a friend or a family member. Was it more? He found his heart constricting in his chest last night as he held the sleeping Alex in his arms before he roused him enough to half-drag, half-carry the man back to his room and put him in his night clothes. It was a wonder no-one saw them, Alex weighed a lot more than he looked. What he felt for Alex had gone way beyond what he had envisioned ever feeling for someone again. This wasn't a mere infatuation like Duke; fooled by a pretty face and not much else. If he dared question himself he would even go as far as to say he had fallen for Alex far more deeply than he had for Jimmy.

"You've been awfully quiet lately though. Too good to talk to me now, are we?" O'Brien smirked as she took a sip of her tea.

"Please, I have standards. I may be a bastard but even I would never sink so low as to try get a man cast out to starve on the streets or be imprisoned for not wanting to train my nephew for a job he wasn't ready for. I grew up, Sarah."

The bell rang for Alex's room and Thomas stubbed out his cigarette and left the hall. From behind him he could hearAlfred say:

"'E's got a point does Mr Barrow. What was it Mr Carson said? 'Running before you could walk?'"

"Doesn't mean you couldn't have done it, Alfred. He was just too selfish to hel..." She started.

"I'm glad he didn't help!" Alfred cut her off, "I want to be a chef, not a butler or a valet! I'm happy being a footman 'til I can save up to go to school."

"What?!"

Thomas smiled as he listened to the fading bickering from the hall as he made his way up to the Earl's room.

* * *

Alex groaned as the sunlight streamed into his room. He remembered returning home from London, then dinner with the Duke and Duchess of Pembrokeshire, a bottle of whisky and then... Oh God! He didn't, did he? He confessed to Thomas. He had had it all planned out in his mind throughout their trip: to find a quiet, romantic moment with Thomas, to tell him how he felt and ask, no beg him to come back to Perthshire with him as his butler and lifelong companion. And in one drunken moment, he ruined it. He'd blurted out his love in the most unromantic and embarrassing way possible. Over these past few months, Alex had grown so accustomed to Thomas' presence in his life that he found it increasingly difficult to think of a life apart from the under-butler and he worried this morning that he may have ruined any chances with his lover.

Alex ran a hand through his hair. His head was pounding horribly and his mouth felt like sandpaper. Noting that his water jug was empty, there was nothing else left to do but ring for Thomas. He leant over to ring the bell. Perhaps he should end it with him? If he had already destroyed any hope of a relationship then what was the point in prolonging his despair? He could feel the little daydream of he and Thomas walking in the vast gardens of Blair Castle, picnics by the river, reclining in the fields, slipping away. No, he couldn't leave Thomas! The shame that filled him when he remotely considered the possibility burned like acid in his stomach. It wasn't Thomas' fault Alex had fallen in love. Thomas was just being himself but... this couldn't be kept secret. He would have to tell all eventually, why not now?

_'I can think of a reason: I feel like shit.'_

There was a knock on the door and Thomas stepped in.

"You rang?" He asked, making his way over to the bed.

As Thomas sat down on the edge, Alex ran a hand over his thigh.

"I must thank you. This is twice you've seen me the worse for wear." He massaged the soft flesh under starched, black work trousers.

"Can I ask you a favour Thomas? Would you be a dear and run me a bath? I might need some help."

"Of course."

Thomas left for the adjoining bathroom and soon the steam from the hot running water billowed out into the room. Alex wandered in to find Thomas testing the temperature with his good hand and grabbed his toothbrush from beside the sink. It was never the most glamorous of tasks, but after a night of heavy drinking and by the rough feeling in his throat, mouth-breathing, it was of immediate importance. Thomas smirked as Alex began scrubbing and Alex shot him a reproachful look that quite clearly said:

'_Like you've never been hungover?'_

After rinsing, Alex stripped down and slipped into the hot water, noting Thomas' cheeks flush as he let out a satisfied moan. He bathed as he watched Thomas gather up his things and place them in a basket for the maids. He had to admit, there was something about the under-butler's livery that stirred him into arousal. Once done, he climbed out of the bath and dried himself off with a fluffy towel. Thomas still had his back to him and Alex found himself thinking.

'_I want to tell him. I have to tell him but is now the right time?'_

He glanced at the black silhouetted uniformed figure picking out his suit for the day.

_'Do it Alex. Tell him after this...'_

Still wrapped in his towel, Alex walked up behind Thomas as he sorted out his morning clothes. He wrapped his arms around him, placing open slow, kisses on Thomas' neck. Thomas hummed and leant back into the touch.

"We're alone Thomas. How about I make up for ruining our evening last night, hmm?"

"We don't have a lot of time Alex. Lord Grantham's expecting you for breakfast."

Alex groaned in Thomas' neck. "I'd much rather stay here."

"I know. Come here."

Thomas turned around in Alex's arms and kissed him softly, swiping his tongue gently against the seam of Alex's lips. Alex groaned and opened his mouth slightly to let Thomas in, tongue seeking out Thomas'. The kiss was slow and quite quickly Alex grew desperate. Growling, he lifted Thomas and threw him onto the bed, clambering atop him, towel slipping to the floor. He attacked Thomas' neck, threading his fingers into the neatly styled hair. He felt Thomas' hands trail across his thighs, fingers resting on the small birthmark there, not so different from a over large freckle. Thomas groaned and kissed Alex's shoulder.

"Alex, Alex! C'mon, we need to get you dressed for breakfast."

Alex sat up, still straddling Thomas.

_'Now. Talk to him now.' _He thought.

"About last night?" He murmured softly..

Thomas looked up, wide blue eyes boring into his green ones and suddenly the words he had wanted to say dried up in his mouth. He looked away.

"Never... never mind. It doesn't matter."

Thomas' face fell and he continued to dressed Alex in silence. The tension was palpable. Alex felt pathetic: how difficult was it really? It was just three little words. He should never have brought the topic of last night up, he should have just let it lie. By saying nothing he had done Thomas a disservice. The hurt look that had passed across the butler's face as he waved off last nights revelation had felt like a slap across the face. Once he was dressed, Thomas immediately dismissed himself, with Alex's eyes following him as he left. He put his face in his hands. If he hadn't fucked things up before, he most certainly had now.

Though unbeknownst to them, they had been watched. They hadn't seen the door open and close gently and they didn't hear the faint retreating footsteps down the hall. Miss O'Brien smiled to herself.


	12. Awkward Conversations and Confessions

**I'm a horrible person. I've been so busy with work placement and dissertation work that I haven responded to any reviews at all. So if you have reviewed and I haven't sent anything back I am really sorry. **

**Is a new chapter apology enough? No? Oh well.**

* * *

The curls of tobacco smoke swirled in the crisp spring evening air as Thomas took another drag on his cigarette. He ran a hand down his face and sighed. He was so sick of this feeling: first the Duke of Crowborough, then Edward, then Jimmy, and now he could cross off Ale... The Earl of Atholl off his list of unrequited loves. How could he have been so stupid? To think that this could have been anything more than what it was. He felt such a fool. Thomas lifted the cigarette up again and took another puff. What was it about him? He knew he didn't exactly endear many people to him. His strike-first mindset often put a dampener on many a failed relationship, friendship or otherwise. Even his family never stayed in touch. Well except John, his cousin. Even being as far away as Bombay, didn't stop him sending him letters when he could. He missed John.

"Mind if I join you?"

The butter-wouldn't-melt tones of Miss O'Brien's voice brought a sneer to his lips.

"If you must." He replied frostily, tapping the ash from his fag to the ground.

"You seem a little down in the mouth. Trouble in paradise eh?" She asked, lighting up and taking a drag.

"I said you could join me, not that I was up for talking." He snapped.

"Well excuse me for breathing. Just trying to make conversation, is all."

Thomas finished the remains of his cigarette and crushed it under his heel. He was definitely not in the mood for this. As he turned to leave, O'Brien piped up again:

"Seems like a nice fellow, that Lord Atholl. Attractive too."

Thomas turned to look at her.

"So? Your point being?"

"He must have the ladies flocking to him wherever he goes. Blond hair, nice smile..." She smirked at Thomas, "... Sweet little birthmark on his thigh..."

Thomas froze. How did she...?

"I saw you two this morning. Awfully cosy you were too. You never learn do you? I'd watch yourself if I were you, Mr. Barrow. Don't want another repeat of last year do we?" Her voice was quiet but deadly. To those watching, it would merely appear as though one colleague was giving another some friendly advice. They wouldn't notice the malice behind the innocent words and the twitch of lips, and the promise of trouble lurking behind hard, unforgiving eyes.

"Doesn't matter what you may or may not have seen, there's nothing between us." Thomas said coolly. That was true wasn't it? Thomas was just convenient wasn't he? A willing test subject desperate for any attention and affection, that's what he was wasn't he?

"Really? That's not what it looked like to me." She replied. She didn't sound convinced at all.

"I'm heading back inside." He bristled.

"Watch yourself Thomas." She called lightly behind him.

* * *

Alex had spent all day with Mr. Crawley and Mr. Branson walking and driving around the estates as the two highlighted their new plans for modernisation. He tried to pay attention and ask pertinent questions when the need arose but it was pointless when his mind was so preoccupied by something else. He needed desperately to talk to Thomas; to explain, to apologise, do anything he could to undo the colossal mistake he had made. It was facing the loss of his companionship with the under-butler that had forced Alex to accept that he didn't want to ever lose Thomas. He'd been the happiest he'd ever felt since arriving at Downton and he'd be damned if he was going to let Thomas slip through his fingers. He was going to fix this. This was fixable, wasn't it?

_'No! Mustn't doubt. I __**will**__ fix this.' _He scolded himself. _'You love him, Alex. Don't waste this.'_

"Lord Atholl? Are you alright?" Came Mr Crawley's voice just ahead of him.

"Hmm?" He looked up to two concerned faces. Alex hadn't realised he'd stopped walking. "Oh, my apologies. Lost myself for a moment there."

"Maybe we should head back? It's almost 5 in the evening." Mr Branson gestured back to the car.

"Yes, perhaps it's just hunger. I'm famished myself." Mr Crawley nodded.

"Yes, maybe you're right. A meal and a rest might do me some good."

* * *

Dinner was uneventful. A delicious spread by Mrs Patmore, Daisy and Ivy had been laid out for them: a starter of creamed watercress soup; succulent roast lamb and mint; potatoes, parsnips, and other vegetables roasted, steamed, and boiled for main; an Eve's Pudding for dessert. Alex was feeling quite full and heavy. Mr Crawley was right: a good meal really had lifted his spirits. During the meal, Lord Grantham had indicated that he had wanted to speak to him afterwards. He seemed in a good mood so Alex didn't think he wanted much: maybe just a catch-up, a reminisce about the late Lord Atholl. Alex was amenable to that.

That evening after dinner, Alex remained with Lord Grantham in the dining room. He had been offered a cigar but refused. He wasn't much of a smoker. Never could get it right. Always ended up choking on the smoke. Mr Carson had left a decanter of fine whiskey out for them, along with some crystal tumblers. Whiskey: the bane of his existence. All this trouble he was in over the stuff. Alex accepted a glass anyway from Lord Grantham, trying not to let his misplaced anger at the non-sentient substance show.

"I worry about you, you know." Lord Grantham said suddenly.

Alex was caught a little off guard.

"Why? Blair Castle is running well with Sir Walter. My finances are in good shape. I keep myself occupied... I don't really see a problem Uncle. You think something's wrong?"

"Not wrong, missing." He replied. "Of course you have stability and good income but you're lacking... A woman's touch."

Ah.

"What I mean to say Alex is, it might be time for you to think about settling down. You're in your early thirties, an excellent age to consider these things. And you need to think of an heir. You're an only child Alex."

"I know you mean well Uncle Robert but I really don't feel ready for that."

'_Not to mention I'm head-over-heels in love with your under-butler.'_

"Naturally, I'm not saying right away but surely there's someone you'd consider it with?" Lord Grantham looked at him pointedly.

_'Shit. I don't like where this conversation is going. Make something up Alex! Just say you haven't really thought about it! Say something! Anything!'_

"Well, there is someone..."

_'No! When I said something, I didn't mean that! Stop! Stop it now!'_

"Really?" Lord Grantham's face lit up with a smile. "Do tell. What's she like?"

_'I've started now. Might as well continue...'_

"Tall, fair skin, blue eyes, dark hair, and with enough sass to give the Dowager Countess a run for her money."

Lord Grantham laughed.

"Well, what's stopping you? Perhaps you don't get along? Mary and Matthew didn't for a long time before they got past it. Or is she working class?"

"We get along just fine, Uncle. As for the other yes, working class. A little thing called Society is getting in the way." Alex hoped Lord Grantham would drop the subject then. Any whiff of social change and the upper class fear revolution. But alas, he continued.

"I always thought that too until Branson came along. I may not have liked the idea at first but I can't deny the happiness it brought Sybil and their marriage eventually saved Downton if you think about it. Branson certainly knows what he's doing and I'm glad to have him. That, and he gets along so well with Matthew."

"I'll think about it." Alex reluctantly replied. As if he hadn't already dug himself a deep enough hole.

"That's the spirit! I think it's time for bed don't you? I'll ring for Bates and Barrow shall I?"

Within the next few minutes, both valet and under-butler arrived in the dining room. Following them out of the room and up the stairs, they parted ways at the landing.

"Goodnight Alex."

"Goodnight Uncle Robert."

* * *

Thomas was oddly cagey as they walked through the empty corridor towards Alex's bedroom. It set him on edge. Something was wrong, he could feel it. 'Was this because of me? Shit, he's really angry with me isn't he?' But that didn't seem quite it either. It was almost as if he was watching a tiger pacing in its' cage at a zoo, as if he felt like he was being watched. Alex reached out to take his hand, feeling Thomas flinch under his palm.

"Are you alright?"

"Not here." Came the terse reply.

They reached Alex's room and after entering, Thomas closed the door firmly behind them putting the bolt on the door.

"Thomas?"

"She knows."

"Who knows? I'm not sure I follow."

"Miss O'Brien! She knows. About... About us. She... She saw. This morning." Thomas looked so panicked and shaken. This must have been eating away at him all day.

Alex guided him to the bed.

"Sit down. Start from the beginning."

Thomas sat gingerly on the edge of the bed and Alex put a hand on his back, rubbing in soothing circles.

"Miss O'Brien, her Ladyship's maid, knows about us. She saw us this morning, after your bath."

Alex thought back to that morning. He and Thomas had shared some passionate kisses earlier, not knowing they had a spectator. And Alex, Alex had been stark naked. He didn't like the idea that some strange woman he'd never met had seen him with his bollocks out.

"Does she have proof?" Alex asked.

"No. I mean, she saw your birthmark but other than that..." Thomas replied.

"Then you're worrying too much." Alex leant in to pull Thomas into a hug but Thomas pushed him back slightly, angry.

"What do you mean I'm worrying too much?! She knows! That's more than enough reason to worry!"

"Thomas, without proof she's only got her word for it and judging by what you've told me, she's prone to spreading rumours. If it comes to it, who are they going to believe?: An Earl and an under-butler who say it's nonsense or a ladies-maid who's told one too many lies already?"

Thomas thought about this for a few moments then spoke. He seemed a little less shaken.

"Maybe you're right but I wouldn't put anything past Miss O'Brien. Please don't underestimate her M'lord."

Alex kissed Thomas' forehead before freezing when his words sank in.

"M'lord? Since when have I been back to M'lord?"

Thomas didn't answer but stood and began to sort Alex's nightclothes.

"Thomas?"

"Did you mean it?" Came the slightly muffled reply. "What you said the other night?"

Alex stood up.

"That I love you?" Thomas nodded. _'So Thomas had been worried about that too. What the Hell Alex, just say it! Damned if you do, damned if you don't.'_

"Yes, I meant it." He put his hand on Thomas' shoulder and turned him around.

"I love you Thomas Barrow."


End file.
